


War Damage

by athousandwinds



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A Choice with No Regrets, Genocide, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, The Maria Expedition, You and me against the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-03-29 23:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 58,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3914809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athousandwinds/pseuds/athousandwinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Retake Wall Maria? With whose army?" asked Mike.</p><p>"A conscript army," Erwin said. "Nevertheless, I have been assured that their strength will be as the strength of ten, because their hearts are pure."</p><p> </p><p>The Survey Corps have a mission: to retake Wall Maria at any cost. Erwin, Levi, and a year in hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The View from Wall Rose

Standing atop Wall Rose, you'd hardly know there were any other walls at all. Even with a telescope, Erwin could only see as far as the edge of what had once been Parada Forest and which now was little better than a dream. Beneath his feet the stone of the Wall rooted him to the ground.

"Have a care!" shouted Lieutenant Adler, lighting the touch-hole and dodging back. Embers flew from the taper in his hand, scattering over the stone and smouldering. Adler cursed, trying to stamp one out – 

The cannon fired with a sharp crack, right in Erwin's ear. The stink of cordite seared his nostrils. The shell smashed into the throat of a Titan fourteen metres high, severing the meat of its neck. Erwin only had time to gaze down into its face, its eyes wide and cow-like, before the steam rose and the corpse began to disintegrate.

"Whooo- _hooooo_!" Adler ran to the edge of the Wall to get a better look at his kill. His euphoria was almost infectious; he was grinning brightly as he found his chalk and scratched out a thick white notch on the parapet. The Garrison were enthusiastic, at least. "It's just a pity they don't stick around."

"Oh, we've always found that more useful than not," said Erwin lightly.

"Yeah, I guess the last thing you guys need is more corpses," said Adler. He slapped a gloved hand against the cannon's barrel. "Big Bessie here does the job ri – _aaargghh_ – "

He snatched his hand away from the burning hot barrel, leaving a sticky patina of badly-oiled leather on the bronze. 

"That was unwise," said Erwin very mildly. 

"I'm not the one – " Adler was peeling off his glove; it looked painful. He flapped his hand in the air, trying to create a cool breeze over the reddened flesh. "I'm not the one who was stood next to the damn cannon when it went off!" 

"You have to become used to it firing," said Erwin. "Being too frightened of it is as dangerous as being too confident." He considered the distance between Adler and the cannon, and himself and the cannon, and gestured at a point several metres away. "There. That's how far away you would have to be to survive the initial explosion, never mind ducking shrapnel. You can't possibly run that far in the time between lighting the touch-hole and the cannon going off." 

"So you think I should just stand there?" asked Adler incredulously. 

"If it blows, we'll both die anyway," said Erwin. He found it difficult to resist the note of condescension creeping into his tone. "I take my chances. It also gives me the advantage that I don't scatter burning embers everywhere, which is much safer for my squad in any case." 

"I'm trying not to die," said Adler, his eyes narrowing in a scowl. 

"You're not doing it very well," said a voice behind Erwin's shoulder. Erwin didn't turn, but he could feel the ghost of a smile edging onto his face. 

"Levi," he said. "Do you have a message for me?" 

"Yeah," Levi said, extending a letter held between two fingers. "Mailbag came up from Marebrook. Some assholes in Sina want to talk to you. I guess it'll make a change from the assholes here." 

Erwin took the letter, which had indeed been postmarked as it went through the Stohess gate, and flipped it over. His stomach dropped. The royal seal was stamped into the red wax on the back. 

"Did you just call me an asshole?" Adler demanded. His face was flushing angrily. Thwarted of worthier prey, he had turned his temper on what he must have assumed was Erwin's batman. 

"Is that what I said?" Levi enquired lazily. "I guess it was." 

"You little shit! How dare you talk back like that to a superior officer?" 

"Hah," said Levi. "You're an officer, I'll give you that much." 

Adler's hands were clenching and unclenching, his whole face dark with blood under the skin. "You'll pay for that, sweetheart, I promise you." 

"Not half as much as you will, darling," said Levi. 

Erwin watched the colour seep out of Adler's face. He was stilling as his body came under the influence of a terrible false tranquillity. Erwin was familiar with it. It was the deceptive calm of absolute, blinding rage. 

Moving forward swiftly, he put his body in between the two of them and his left hand out in a soothing gesture towards Adler. His right hand came down over Levi's neck, enveloping his slender nape. "There will be no duels here, either of you." His voice was as clear as a bell. Adler reacted sharply, jerking back. "We fight Titans, not each other." 

"You're going to let him get away with cheeking me?" Adler said, but his tone was resentful, not furious. 

"Captain Levi's discipline is not your affair," said Erwin, and noted with satisfaction Adler's mortified twitch at _captain_. "In any case, Lieutenant, you need to clean and reload the cannon. Be careful and check for damage behind the first reinforce ring. That's the most dangerous place to have a crack." 

"Yes, sir," said Adler, his jaw setting. He spun on his heel and knelt to his task. 

Erwin dropped his hand from the nape of Levi's neck. Levi blinked, turning his face upwards to look at him. It was only now that Erwin realised Levi had been motionless throughout, from the moment he'd handed over the letter. He still held himself coiled tight, ready to spring for Adler's throat, and his expression was utterly serene. 

"Captain," he said. "Walk with me." 

He strode off quickly, trusting that Levi would keep up if he had to march in double-time. Below them, three Titans mauled at the base of Wall Rose, but Erwin ignored the sounds of the slavering beasts. 

"Why did you stop me?" asked Levi, falling perfectly into step with him despite his shorter stride. "He was going to challenge me to a duel. I've never fought a duel before." 

Erwin found himself laughing. "I couldn't just stand there and watch you kill him." 

"I don't see why not," said Levi. He shoved his hands in his pockets, ruining the line of his trousers. "He wouldn't have disrespected you again." 

"You're bloodthirsty today," said Erwin. "Are any of the Garrison Corps giving you trouble?" 

"I can handle _them_ ," said Levi disdainfully. As if by mutual decision, they paused on the Wall's edge and glanced down. Fifty metres below, a Titan let out a long, slow wail and beat its fists against the smooth stonework. It looked disconcertingly like a toddler having a tantrum, except for the full, lipless mouth of sharp teeth that drew back too far from the jaw. "They're practically raw recruits." 

"They get appallingly excited by killing a Titan, don't they?" Erwin reconsidered his altercation with Lieutenant Adler. "What kind of rate are they managing?" 

"About one a day," said Levi. "In a good week." He stared down at the Titan – hard to tell what class it was, from this angle – and then, after some deliberation, spat over the parapet. All around them, the guns roared again in a volley. Four or five shots followed after, late and disconsolate, like the last person clapping after a round of applause. 

"Well," said Erwin dryly, "at least their zeal is charming." 

"At this rate we'll run out of shot by the end of the year," said Levi. "All the brass was in Maria territory." 

"I wish that was the only thing we'll run out of," said Erwin. "I don't fancy our chances regarding bandages and clean syringes, either. I _hope_ they're going to the refugees, but somehow I doubt it." 

"No," said Levi tersely. "Black market." 

"I bow to your superior knowledge," Erwin said. Levi shrugged his shoulders. 

"What was in the letter?" he asked, with the awkward abruptness that characterised all the questions he truly wanted the answers to. 

"I haven't read it," said Erwin. "I was distracted." Levi's mouth edged up into a smirk. Erwin shot him a quelling glance, and dug his thumbnail into the wax seal, severing its grip on the paper. "Here we are. To Erwin Smith, thirteenth commander of the Survey Corps – greetings and health – I am summoned, apparently. You were right." 

"Of course," said Levi. 

"I'll have to leave tomorrow," Erwin said, flicking the letter closed. The broken seal looked ridiculous now, worn into a smudge by the warmth of Erwin's hand. "I'll need you to handle some of the day to day business while I'm gone." 

"That's fine," said Levi. His mood seemed to have dropped; the face he made when the next volley boomed was more sullen than usual. When the smoke from the gunpowder finally began to dissipate, an overjoyed cheer went up. Some of the smoke had been steam; another Titan was rotting at the foot of the Wall. 

"There," said Erwin. "That's two in one day. Perhaps their drill is improving after all." 

"You're such a fucking optimist, Commander," said Levi, without rancour. Beneath them, Erwin counted thirty – forty – fifty-three Titans clawing at the mile-long stretch of Wall Rose that was manned today. Tomorrow the Garrison would spend the morning marching another mile, dragging their guns behind them, and set up shop there. The original idea had been to thin the ravening hordes evenly, so that no place along the Wall would be weaker than any other. 

It had been unimaginative. 

  


* * *

  


Levi woke, as he always did, exactly two minutes before reveille. He lay there, wide awake, as the bugle call went up and then he shifted the bedclothes aside with a sigh. 

He retrieved his trousers from over his single chair, and dressed with quiet efficiency. Outside his room, he could hear the sounds of the fortress waking up. Someone above him was shouting, probably at the male cadets. He wished them well. 

Breakfast was the usual hubbub of voices to tune out and comrades to ignore. Levi found his usual seat in the corner across from Hange, and proceeded to do both. This suited Hange, whose stare was glassy and shadowed. 

"I was up all night reading Chernov's article on different grasses on Marian farmland," they said, pinching the bridge of her nose where their glasses had made indents. 

"Any good?" asked Mike, who was more willing to humour people at half past five than Levi was at lunch. 

"Eh, he wasn't able to complete his research," said Hange dismissively. "Not that you'd know it! He went on for pages and pages! A lot of good studies were lost when Shiganshina fell, it was a fucking tragedy." 

"That's rough," said Mike, accepting this view of the situation. He seemed to think they were joking. Levi could have told him better. 

"Do you think maybe I could collect some samples, next time we're out in Maria territory?" Hange said, musing. "Do a fellow scientist a favour, I mean. And then he'd be really grateful and let me use his big microscope whenever I wanted." 

"I think you're pushing it at 'grateful'," said Mike. 

"It's true," Hange said mournfully. "Academics just _hate_ being helped. I've tried so many times – "

"He's two days overdue," said Levi. 

There was a moment of awkward silence. Hange said, "Uh, yeah, I noticed." 

"What the fuck is there to do in Sina?" Levi said, addressing the empty seat against the wall. He glared at it, feeling personally wronged. 

"Lots! There's libraries, and the university, and nice restaurants, and pubs, and churches, I guess, if you like that sort of thing, but I don't think Erwin does, do you?" 

Hange paused for breath, and Mike said: "He could be visiting friends, maybe. Or he just got delayed. It happens." 

"Or maybe he was out one night and fell passionately in love with a barmaid, and now he can't bear to tear himself away from her side, and actually what we're waiting for is our Dear Hans letter!" 

"Not a barmaid," said Mike, pained. 

"I can't imagine Erwin falling in love with the youngest and most beautiful daughter of a noble house, can you?" said Hange in their most reasonable tone. 

"This is stupid," said Levi, pushing back from the table. "I'll see you assholes later." 

"You brought it up," said Mike, and at the same time, Hange said, "That's _captain_ assholes to you, soldier!" Levi felt free to turn his back on them both. 

They were actually one captain down, he thought as he made his way outside. Perhaps that was what Erwin was kicking his heels in the capital over: the Council forcing a choice on him. Levi had been given the field promotion, Adric's blood and brains staining his uniform, but none of them had thought it would stand muster once the Council got wind of it. There were usually one or two deserving candidates from the MPs who'd made the city too hot to hold them, and Levi flattered himself that it would stick in Erwin's craw to favour one of them before one of his own. 

He filled his gas tanks from the outside store, which someone had forgotten to cover with a sheet the night before. They were on the rota, and Levi decided to give them a filthy look later. The blades had fared better than the tanks, being stacked off the floor, but Levi bothered only with one set. Moving out into the open air, he stamped the dirt on the training field once, to see how it would feel to land a jump. The ground was hard with a light overlay of frost. It had been an easy winter so far. 

The sky was still dark, which was probably why Levi was alone out here. In the winter even the toughest of the Corps were slow to escape the warm cocoon of the mess. In this they were encouraged by Mike, who preferred for himself a long, lazy breakfast, and then to work the whole day through until dusk without even stopping for a sandwich. The old commander had hated it. Erwin didn't seem to mind. He had told Levi that he didn't much care when the work was done, so long as it was done in good time and with the minimum of fuss. Levi, who more than any of them liked the rigidity of three meals a day whether you wanted them or not, had sneered. 

"It makes them useless," he'd said. "If you don't have discipline." 

"No one in the Corps is useless," Erwin had replied. That was true, but Levi suspected that people in the Corps who didn't train properly, at the correct time of day, were best used to slow down Titans. 

He crouched, eyed the nearest wall of the training ground, and shot off a grappling hook towards the top of it. He could feel the rush of air behind him as he leapt after his hook, buoying him up until he hit the wall with the ball of his left foot, pivoted and aimed for one of the swaying pillars in the centre that passed for Titans. This could get hairy quickly, so he tugged on the line when he felt the thud of connection shudder up towards his arm, satisfied himself that it would hold his weight, and used it to swing in a full arc around the pillar. It must have looked like some demented version of a maypole dance. 

Levi had seen a maypole dance only once, in the summer of that year. The Survey Corps had attended a village fête behind Wall Rose, and Erwin had poured him cup after cup of the local poison until Levi, flushed and clenching his jaw to keep from smiling foolishly at everyone he saw, had consented to dance a reel. At that point, he had taken philosophically the necessity of dancing the woman's part ("I don't think you could pick me or Mike off the ground," Erwin had said, with such an air of authority that Levi had, in his inebriated state, felt it to be gospel truth) and only some time later had become aware that they were no longer dancing a reel, but running around the huge pole holding ribbons. The only part he really remembered after that was when the village mayor, an elderly woman with a harsh, lined face, had put the bag of silver coins into Erwin's hands. Erwin hadn't been shocked, exactly; the mayor had got up at the start of all the palaver and said the fête was to raise money for the refugees of Wall Maria. The money was _supposed_ to be delivered by the Survey Corps; that was why they were there. But Erwin had, very briefly, been surprised. As if the village would say, "we want to raise money for the Maria refugees", spend weeks and weeks putting on the fête, invite the Survey Corps and then let them journey all the way there just to say, "Haha, never mind".

Levi threw out another hook with much more force than was necessary, and took off after it with a deepening scowl. 

The first light of dawn was beginning to streak across the sky when his squad began to file out of the mess hall. Levi smiled at them, which appeared to be a cause for concern among the younger ones, but in fact he was pleased. He had only been out here for three quarters of an hour on his own, which was an improvement over last week. He dropped to the ground in front of them. 

"Who wants to ride into town with me?" he asked, and then, when his highly paranoid squad remained silent, added: "The correct answer is yes." 

"Happy to," said Eld. 

"Delighted," said Hilde. 

"My heart's desire," said Katze, the little suck-up. Levi regarded her with the most approval. 

"Good," said Levi. "Saddle up, we're couriers today." 

An hour's ride, he calculated, would bring them into the local town for eight o'clock. The postmistress would be awake by then to receive the Corps's weekly postbag, which she never appreciated the weight of the way she should. 

But more importantly, Levi thought, turning away to stride towards the stable, she would have all the letters from the last two days. And there might be news from the capital. 

  


* * *

  


It was much later that night when Erwin returned to the fortress that served as the Corps' current headquarters, feeling old and tired and sick at heart. The bitter cold, so much sharper out here in the countryside, and without the heat off the seething mass of humanity behind Sina, bit deeply into his bones. It felt like death. 

He took the proffered lantern from the carriage driver's hand and allowed him to see to the horses. The driver was a decent man and hadn't charged him too brutally for insisting he be driven back tonight from Marebrook, instead of waiting until the morning. 

"There'll be a bed for you in the barracks," he said. The coachman shrugged his thanks, quite used to dossing down in the stables with his animals, and Erwin left him. Each step up the narrow staircase to the kitchen side door was a torture to his knees. 

You're just tired, he thought. 

The flickering circle of pale light around him gave him no comfort as he slipped through the kitchens into the back stairs corridor. On the other side of the wavering line he could feel the darkness closing in, pressing against him like an old enemy. Erwin had been frightened of the dark as a child. As an adult, he was frightened of very little. 

The stone floor beneath his boots wasn't helping matters. One of the soles had worn through on the ball of his foot. All the way from Mitras he had been nursing a blister there, and now the cold stone ground against it with every step. Kristenburg had been the property of the Survey Corps for nearly a hundred years and in all that time no one had ever requisitioned a carpet. Probably no one ever would. 

Erwin reached the third flight of stairs and hesitated. Above him was his bedchamber, which, while not palatial, was at least clean and usually neat. He was very tired. It had been a long journey. 

He turned and went down the corridor instead. At the end and round the corner was his office, where he could sit and think awhile. The bone-deep exhaustion of his body was no match for the state of his nerves, and he knew he'd get no sleep until his mind had worn itself out, too. 

There was a light under his door. Erwin frowned slightly, making more of an expression than he would normally, but there was no one to see it. His mind ran over all the people who might be awake and in his office at this hour, but very few of his acquaintance had any business there and still fewer any desire to do it. Only – 

He pushed the door open. "Levi?" he asked. 

Levi froze in the act of writing, as if he'd been caught forging and not trying to do Erwin's job for him. Erwin smiled and let the door swing shut behind him. 

"I'm surprised to see you awake," he said pleasantly. "It's very late, you know." 

"I know," said Levi. He put the pen down – Erwin's pen – and stood up. "Your letter said you'd be back tomorrow." 

"And you thought you'd get some last-minute work done before I arrived?" Erwin twitched the paper out of Levi's unresisting fingers and glanced over it. A medical supplies requisition for the coming month. Well, it was useless now. "That's good of you, Levi." 

"It needed to be done early," said Levi, his tight stance betraying the intense discomfort he always seemed to feel whenever someone thanked or complimented him. "There's shortages in the town. We won't be able to buy in extra." 

"Just so," said Erwin gently. "Thank you very much." 

"I was going to go to bed soon anyway," said Levi. "See you in the morning." 

"I'm afraid not," said Erwin, coming to a sudden decision. His expression must have changed, because Levi's posture eased and he straightened from his hunch. 

"What is it?" he asked, immediately alert. 

"I need you to assemble the other officers," said Erwin. 

"It's nearly midnight, they'll be asleep," said Levi, but he was already moving past Erwin to the door. It had been a complaint, not a question. Levi was reliable like that. It wasn't until he was halfway out of the door that he hesitated and came back. "Other officers?" 

"That was the first bit of news," said Erwin. "Congratulations, Captain." 

He watched Levi's countenance with satisfied hunger as the news sank in. Securing the promotion hadn't been easy. For a heartbeat Erwin saw a fierce pride in Levi's face, the smile of a man who had clawed his way to victory against the odds. He had never so much as admitted he wanted the captaincy, still less this badly. Then it was subsumed by his usual scowl. 

"Tch," he said. "I guess there wasn't anybody else to give it to." 

There hadn't been, but Erwin said: "You've earned it a hundred times over," which was also true. 

"Hah," said Levi, and vanished around the corner. 

It was quarter of an hour before he returned, a quarter of an hour Erwin spent watching the clock and trying to plan out what he would say to them when they came. 

_It's good to see you all again. Unfortunately –_

_I have some bad news._

Eventually they trudged in all together behind Levi, as if they'd all been too sleepy to do anything but follow him like a trail of ducklings. Hange was the only exception; they danced from foot to foot impatiently. The world always went too slow for Hange. Mike was yawning. His two newer captains, Guerin and Reynaud, both stood to attention when they saw him, their sloppiness slightly worse than if they'd slumped. 

"Commander," said Guerin, her pale eyes blinking away sleep. "I didn't realise you were back." 

"Less than an hour ago." Erwin prevented himself, through an act of will, from tapping his foot. Guerin would likely take it amiss. "I've brought you all here – " 

It was the wrong way to begin. 

" – because I have some urgent news," he finished anyway. They looked at him enquiringly, with what seemed to Erwin a bizarre kind of innocence, and his nerve momentarily failed him. "Levi's promotion to captain has been confirmed," he said instead. 

This caused a minor flurry of congratulations to Levi, who bore them with tolerable patience before he said: "It doesn't matter. You didn't bring us here in the middle of the night for that, Erwin." 

"No," said Erwin, over a sharp protest from Reynaud regarding Levi's lack of respect. "You're right, Levi. I didn't." 

He lifted himself from where he had been sitting on the edge of his desk and walked over to the window. This was useless if he had been looking for something to shore up his resolve: outside he could see only the black of night. Intellectually, he knew it was merely the courtyard fifty feet below; he thought about pitching himself out. It would all still happen, but it wouldn't be on his head. 

Absurdly, he thought of what Levi would say. _Coward_ , probably. _It's still your responsibility._

"The other news I have to relate is less pleasing," he said, turning back to his officers. "We've received our orders. You are undoubtedly familiar with the refugee situation?" 

Erwin was gratified to note that everyone, even Hange who paid little attention to anything besides their work, straightened and became attentive. In the capital, he'd met military police who'd protested the ruling from the Council on the grounds that the shortages resulting from the refugees weren't that bad, which had been a losing argument even before they'd presented their list of the reductions and privations the MPs were willing to undergo for the greater good. 

"It is, I am told, worse than even we realised," he said. "The Council have decided that the only possible solution is to retake Wall Maria." 

The silence that followed was dead already. 

"With whose army?" asked Mike eventually. He sounded as if he weren't sure he was awake. 

"A conscript army," Erwin said. "Nevertheless, I have been assured that their strength will be as the strength of ten, because their hearts are pure." 

"From the refugees?" Mike was still attempting to follow his train of thought through to, what was, for him, its natural conclusion. "Huh. It could be done, maybe. If we go through the lists and pick out the likeliest, if we put all the money we've got for the coming year into it, we could assemble a force of, eh, eight to ten thousand by the end of next December? Those wouldn't be bad numbers. I wouldn't mind fighting Titans with an army like that." 

"Very reasonable," said Erwin. His mouth was dry. He thought distantly that his hands might be shaking, so he shifted his stance to parade ground rest and put them behind his back. "Unfortunately, we move out at the beginning of next month. We will begin with two parties of refugees, each consisting of about ten and a half thousand people, and each leaving through the Trost and Karanese gates. I require that each of you give me your estimates for the supplies necessary for this venture by the end of tomorrow – today, I suppose," he amended, glancing at the clock. 

The atmosphere in the room was as heavy as lead, pressing down on Erwin's shoulders. There was a moment of indecision, as if no one could decide which argument to raise first. 

"Ten and a half _thousand_ – "

" – we can't feed that many people, even if we could keep them alive!" 

"Only two gates? Are we not trying to retake the area outside Chlorba?" 

"I can't finish a report like that in less than a day, I'd need a week – "

"What the hell are we going to do with a bunch of farmers?" demanded Mike. "It's no better than slaughter!" 

"Make do," said Erwin. Mike stared at him as if he'd never seen him before. 

"That's exactly what this is, isn't it?" said Levi. "Slaughter." 

Erwin looked at him. Levi gazed back, steady and piercing. Erwin wished he knew what he was thinking. _I failed you most of all_. 

"We will have to do what we can to mitigate losses," he said. "Levi, I need you to rework your projections for medical supplies to cover what we'll need for the initial expedition and we'll start from there. Take Elphberg's old office, it's yours now anyway. Hange – "

They were already scribbling on their hand with Erwin's pen. "I'll co-ordinate with Guerin over swords and gas," they said. Erwin felt himself relax slightly. Hange believed in dealing with the problem in front of them. 

"Reynaud, you and Mike should look at food and sundries. We're hoping to secure viable farmland within the first month, so – "

"We've missed harvest by a mile," said Mike. "We won't be able to plant until March at the earliest." 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," said Erwin. "Tomorrow, Mike. Please." 

The _please_ seemed to get through to Mike as nothing else had done and he settled back against the bookcase. Erwin went over assignments again, asked if there were any questions (none; they looked as shell-shocked as he felt) and dismissed them to their beds. Hange, he was quite sure, went back to their office, and Levi to rescue Elphberg's for human habitation, but Mike lingered. 

"Why tell us tonight?" he asked abruptly, his eyes narrowed. His slack posture against the wall seemed to Erwin to be that of a large cat waiting to spring. "Did you think we'd all be too tired to argue properly? Too confused?" 

This had certainly been the case; Erwin would have suffered a singularly more unpleasant interview with five fully-alert captains, and relaying it in this fashion had saved him a storm of horror and protest. But it had not been his first thought. He let out a long breath, digging his fingertips into his forehead. 

"What do you want me to say, Mike? I'm tired, too, so let's have it." 

"You think any of us will go back to sleep, now?" Mike asked. His tone had softened; he'd seen Erwin perform the same gesture many times. 

"I suppose not." Erwin might. He could feel his brain weighing down his head. Even with everything, he thought he might well sleep. "But it was important." 

"Yeah." Mike tried to shove his hands in his pockets, realised that he was wearing pyjamas, and sighed, shaking his head. "Well, you look better than you did when I came in, a lot less pale. I guess a problem shared really is a problem halved, huh?" 

"I prefer to think of it as spreading the shit evenly," said Erwin, and then, very finally: "Good night, Mike." 

"Night," said Mike. He padded out of Erwin's office, making hardly any noise. Erwin could not say the same for himself; exhaustion made him clumsy, and he knocked over a pile of books by his sofa on his way out. Heretic books, he thought, although he supposed that all books were heretical, in their own way. 

There were twenty-three steps between him and the stairs to his room, but the second door to the right was Elphberg's office. Erwin paused outside for two, three, four heartbeats. He could see the light from the oil lamp gleaming in the tiny gap between door and stone. 

He raised his hand to knock, and stayed there, unmoving. What was Levi thinking? About the expedition, about Erwin? He'd promised to follow him…

Following him into certain death had been part of the deal. It was only Erwin himself who hesitated. 

_I promised you clarity of purpose._

Well, that had been a lie, hadn't it? 

Erwin withdrew his hand and went on his way, the fourteen steps to the stairs echoing oddly in his own ears. 


	2. Hairline Fractures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You will have the greatest privilege in the world_ , the eleventh commander had said to Erwin's graduating class. _You will_ see _the world._
> 
> The expedition begins.

The air was utterly still in the cold dawn light. Behind him Erwin could hear the remote sounds of the last of the refugees in the rear-guard trying to file into place, half a mile back and more. Noise carried, on a day like this, and the eerie silence of the crowd only made it easier. At least no one seemed to be quarrelling with their orders.

His gelding was quiet beneath him. Four ranks away to his right, Levi's own mount shied nervously at something on the ground – a mouse, perhaps – and Erwin shot him a warning look which Levi could not possibly see. He was already calming her, his gloved hand smoothing over her neck. 

It was only him, Levi and Guerin here, of the Survey captains. Mike, Reynaud and Hange were off leading the exodus out of the Karanese District gate. They'd split the Corps down the middle; Erwin had only a hundred and fifty scouts here, marking the boundary between the host and any spectators who came out to watch the show. If there were any trouble in the massive throng, they'd have to rely on the Garrison Corps soldiers threaded throughout the refugees. The conscripts, rather. 

Trouble seemed likely. The silence was ominous. Often when the Survey Corps set out, there was singing and a lot of loud, laughing bravado that Erwin had no real desire to check. Sometimes they even sang when they came back, especially if the crowd that watched them was sullen and tense. On a Survey Corps expedition, there was always a sense of suppressed wonder among both veterans and new recruits. 

_You will have the greatest privilege in the world_ , the eleventh commander had said to Erwin's graduating class. _You will_ see _the world._

Of course, it hadn't been enough for Commander Lang in the end. Erwin wondered if he would end up like that, too; hanging on to his position for longer than did any of them any good, incapable of letting go his duty. 

He glanced over at Levi again, but a shift in the crowd had hidden him from view. 

"How many of them know, do you reckon?" Levi had asked last night. Nearly everybody else had turned in for the night, and the camp was absent of the usual sounds of the drunk and disorderly, or the tired and emotional. Erwin had lingered at his table in the command tent, where he would be sleeping anyway. He had been looking at a map of the Maria territory they'd be venturing into tomorrow; it was still a novelty, having maps that weren't hand-drawn from memory and a deadly secret among Survey's senior officers. 

"Fewer than I expected," Erwin had said. He was waiting for the storm to break. 

"I don't see how they _can't_ know," Levi had said. He'd kicked idly at the legs of the table; it wobbled, and one of Erwin's models tipped over. 

"Not everyone is you," Erwin had said. He considered for a moment whether the world would be better or worse for it if they were. "Not everyone is in your position. They _want_ to take Wall Maria back. If it's a terrible risk versus rotting in a camp for the rest of their lives…" He shrugged his shoulders and added reflectively: "Under different circumstances, we really could have used that." 

"I always knew you were a bastard," Levi had said. Erwin had laughed, and found the crick in his neck easing for the first time in hours. 

"Would you like a drink? I actually have a bottle of something decent." 

Levi had assented, and Erwin dug through his kit until he emerged with the bottle of expensive whiskey Nile had given him when he was last in the capital. He decided against telling Levi its provenance, and poured him two fingers. 

"S'all right," Levi had said, knocking back half the glass in one. When he surfaced, the furrow between his brows had deepened. "Hey. About those unicorns. The _volunteers_." 

"They're very sweet," Erwin had said, unable to repress a smile. Levi sounded honestly confused, as if he couldn't decide whether the military police who had joined the expedition were either that stupid or that crazy. "They presented a list of suggestions for how the MPs could undergo rationing in order to show solidarity with the refugees of Wall Maria and reduce the burden on the military spending budget. Only one new pair of riding gloves per month; that sort of thing." 

"And now they're here." Levi had nodded; mystery solved. He'd slugged back the last of the whiskey in a kind of macabre celebration and held out his glass again. Erwin poured him a generous dram. 

"And so are we," he'd said. 

Somewhere off to Erwin's left, fourteen or fifteen ranks away, someone began to sing. 

  


* * *

  


Netty shied beneath him at the sight of Jarrow's big grey stallion, already unhappy with the way her life was going. Levi slid a hand over her neck. 

"There, there," he muttered, not quite under his breath. "Never mind. I hate him, too." 

Jarrow shot a sharp glare over his shoulder, but Levi paid him no mind. He'd had no time for any of the military police fuckheads since they showed up two weeks ago. Some of them had seemed cowed, which Levi had done his best to encourage. Jarrow had not. In fact, Jarrow had made a crack about Levi's height and expressed doubt about his ability to keep anyone alive in the field, which was so commonplace that it nowadays engendered no reaction. Joke was on him. 

Levi hoped that Jarrow's stallion threw him, and he broke his neck. 

Netty whickered uneasily at him and Levi suppressed an irritated sigh. She wasn't used to stallions; the Survey Corps didn't keep any, and she was only four, slightly below the age when the veterinary officers liked to breed the mares. Most of the horses the Corps used were geldings, sturdy and obedient; and, not incidentally, going cheap after the fall of Wall Maria. There wasn't the space or the money to breed horses on a large scale any more. 

"Captain Levi!" An angry squaddie was elbowing her way through the crowd. "Captain Levi!" 

Levi twisted in the saddle. "What?" he asked. 

"Fight," she said, her face drawn and tense. "The Garrison won't help me break it up." 

Levi dismounted in one swift movement. "Show me." 

A man and a woman were shouting at each other deep into the crowd; as Levi neared them, shoving his way through, the woman jabbed her fist into the man's stomach. The next moment Levi had her by the wrist, dragging her away. The squaddie, without needing to be told, had bulled into the man while he was still doubled over and borne him back a yard. 

"What the hell is going on?" Levi demanded of the woman. 

"Get that bastard away from me," she said. She was shaking in his grip from a tide of emotion that seemed to be a potent mix of rage and fear. It was impossible to tell the difference when it surged; Levi would know. 

"All right," said Levi, and yanked her back a few more steps. She went willingly enough. 

"You fucking bitch!" the man snarled; he, too, was trembling in the squaddie's capable arms. "I thought you were _dead_ , Rachel! You let me think you were dead!" 

Levi blinked, and his eyes flicked to the woman to see her reaction. 

"You made me wish I was," she said, her voice low. The man looked like he'd been punched again. 

"All right," said the squaddie. "I don't care what happened, are you two going to be able to stand next to each other?" 

"No," said Rachel. Her stare at the man – her husband? – was intense. Levi was beginning to wish he'd left this one up to the Garrison to sort out. He disliked any display of strong emotion on principle. 

"Great," the squaddie said, tightening her grip on the man as he began to struggle. 

"Leave it," said Levi warningly. The man jerked, and ceased. "You stay here, she'll come with me. Scout, uh, Nanaba?" 

"I'll make sure he stays put, sir," said Nanaba, twisting the man's wrists behind his back. As Levi led Rachel away, he could hear the man beginning to cry. Rachel did not; only looked ahead with her face set and grim. 

"Better here?" he asked, letting go of her arm once they were closer to the outmost flank. 

"Yeah," she said. "I won't go looking for him." 

Levi, glancing up at the position of the sun, judged it best to let it go. They were about to order the advance. He elbowed his way back through the crowded formation to find Netty, who was standing precisely where he'd left her, and swung up into the saddle just as Erwin called out: 

"Forward!" 

Levi would have heard him anywhere, at any time, but the rest of their army took a moment to respond. The first three ranks of horse, all soldiers, began to move and slowly the realisation rolled over the rest of the troops. This was it. They were going outside. 

Actually, what they were doing was marching through Trost and then out into Maria territory, but it must have been like going outside if you'd never been. Levi himself hadn't understood, either, until his first expedition, when he'd gazed at the landscape before him. He'd thought, then, with a shiver down his spine, that he could just keep riding. Break formation and gallop until the horse died underneath him, and then walk until his feet ground to stumps, and then crawl until his hands were bloody and still, Erwin had said, he wouldn't get round the world. Not if Erwin was right, and Levi had thought, even then, that Erwin was usually right.

"Of course," Farlan had said wryly, "probably the Titans would kill you first." 

Isabel had groaned aloud, always alive to gruesomeness; Erwin had laughed. And Levi had thought, _so what_? Freedom meant freedom to take the consequences, too. 

As the front ranks moved through the gate, a cheer went up. There were hundreds of spectators lining the route; old and young, men and women. Some of them waved homemade banners in bright colours: someone's old curtains, or a scarf temporarily sacrificed to joy. Levi risked a glance at Erwin. It was probably the first time any crowd had cheered him. He might have a heart attack. 

Erwin was sitting bolt upright, his face grave and calm. Levi hissed through his teeth, and urged Netty harder over the cobbles. _Let's just get this over with_. 

Behind him, the host ten thousand strong was narrowing to a mere eight abreast, most of them on foot and hardly any with gear. The pride and happiness of the spectators seemed to be leaking. He could hear some bright spark starting up with "When cannons are roaring and bullets are flying", which Levi had always loathed. Other voices were taking up the tune, and the Trost folk loved it. Not enough to march in step, of course, but Levi didn't want them anyway. As if they didn't already have ten and a half thousand problems. 

It took the front rank, of which Jarrow was one and Levi was not, three quarters of an hour to reach the Trost gate, at a slow and stately pace. They were going to exit the gate fifty ranks at a time, as they were, shutting the gate after each party. All the Survey Corps soldiers were concentrated heavily towards the vanguard; they needed as many competent soldiers out there at the start as they could possibly force through. Protecting the whole division would take everything they had. 

"In many ways," Erwin had said last night, contemplating his glass, "the best thing that could happen for all of us, including them, would be for a huge chunk of the refugees to die about a mile out from the gate. Our supplies would last longer, for one. Did you notice that we only really have enough for three weeks? And our soldiers wouldn't be as over-stretched, so we'd be better able to protect the rest of them." 

It was the kind of thing Erwin said a lot when Levi found him awake and alone in the middle of the night. He had a faraway look on his face, as if nothing he said actually meant anything in reality. 

Levi understood much better what Erwin wanted from him, these days. 

The gate made a horrible noise as the Garrison soldiers winched it open, the iron joints screaming in protest. It hadn't been opened in a year, which was just fucking typical. 

"…those who would honour win must not fear dying!" came the end of the chorus, a little belatedly. A hush was falling over the first four hundred to leave through the gate. 

Erwin raised himself in the saddle, standing upright in his stirrups. "Forward!" he shouted. "To Shiganshina!" 

Levi nudged his mare onward. The clop of her hooves on the flagstones was sharp and loud in his ears. He could barely hear anything else. Another minute – less – 

The sun was high over the horizon now, inasmuch as you ever saw a horizon within the walls. The Corps had turned Levi into a snob. He clenched his thighs around Netty's body, urging her faster. In two or three minutes he would have to wheel and take his place on the outermost right flank; both he and Guerin had been positioned at the most vulnerable points on either side. There were still plenty of civilians in their group. 

He could hear the screech of the gate descending. All of the first four hundred were through: good. Levi rode on, his head raised high to scan his whereabouts more closely. His rank was about a mile out, now. Anyone falling behind would be forced to carry on by the rearguard cavalry. But it seemed like they'd got away with it so far: the guns on the walls were all primed, and Levi would have heard cannon fire if the Trost Garrison had seen a Titan. 

There was movement in the trees. Levi's flare gun was out in less than half a second; he locked a red flare into place and fired it straight up in the air. A quarrel of sparrows flurried out of the treetops, crying out in concert. 

Jarrow turned in his saddle, laughing already. "On a hair trigger, aren't you, Captain?" 

Levi didn't bother to reply. Around him the right outermost flank, mostly Survey troopers, were already forming into a hard defensive line. The refugees – the infantry – were beginning to catch on to what was happening, and a frightened murmur arose. 

"Hold your position!" he shouted. The wind rushed past him as Nanaba galloped up the line, letting out a large coil of wire. The rank of infantry behind Levi's troopers grasped it gratefully. After them came the pikemen, dwarfed by their own weapons. 

"If you've caused a panic – " Jarrow muttered at him, drawing his own blades. Levi ignored him, bringing his arm down abruptly. The line of troopers was advancing even before the Titan emerged from the trees. 

It was crawling at first, scuttling like a beetle with too many legs, but when it saw them its mouth opened hungrily and it raised itself, swaying, on its hind legs. It panted at them like a feral dog, its tongue huge and red. 

A seven metre class, Levi thought. _Could've been worse._

He launched himself from the saddle a moment before the rest of the Corps and for a moment he was soaring clear, breathing the air of an exalted place. His blades were in his hands and he looked down on the crown of the Titan's blond head without mercy or pity. Hatred was a purifying emotion. 

As he dived, he saw the first line of infantry rush ahead of the rest, and the Titan stride eagerly to meet them. He was going to miss the kill, damn. The wire was in their hands, all sixty metres of it, and as the Titan moved forward they tried to dodge past its feet. Some of them were less successful than others, but when they fell there were people to pick up where they'd left off. From this height, Levi could see them running in a circle that spiralled around the Titan's legs. It looked like a maypole dance. 

The Titan hit the ground so hard the land shuddered. Levi somersaulted in mid-air and dropped onto the nape of its neck. All he had to do was drive the point of his sword in deep, and twist for good measure. 

"Good job," he said. Around him the cheer went up, ragged and out of breath, and his people, farmers and shoemakers and street beggars all, began to hug and embrace each other as if they'd thought they'd never do it again. Levi caught sight of Rachel's face in the crowd; she was staring at her own hands in shock. 

"You've done well!" Erwin shouted. He was at the head of the relief squad; they looked like they'd spurred their horses hard. Levi spared a brief glance at the ground. Eight dead, and probably sixteen or twenty casualties. "Collect our dead and we'll keep going. We must be in shelter by nightfall." 

He was standing in his stirrups again, looking taller than he had in days. His smile was bright; Levi felt a familiar jolt in his stomach. Their eyes met. Erwin was smiling at _him_. 

Levi thought, _We would have lost more people if we'd tried to outrun it. That's the whole point of this, isn't it? We've only delayed the inevitable._

_But you and me, we're not made that way._

  


* * *

  


The town of Rosenwald had been a good choice, Erwin thought. He credited himself with the idea; it was a city about fifty kilometres out from the Trost gate, a decent midpoint between Wall Rose and Shiganshina, but not close enough to the breach to suffer from the constant waves of Titans he knew must shamble through every day. The most important aspect of his decision had been the famous walls, which stood nearly ten metres high. Rosenwald had once had a mad mayor, who had sunk every penny of her personal fortune into building them "in case the Titans came". She'd died nearly forty years ago, but the walls still stood. Erwin could think of worse legacies. 

They were over three metres thick and the worst damage the Titans had done so far had been some heavy scarring on the east side – the gift of a fourteen metre class Abnormal who had head-butted the edge of the wall until the masonry crumbled. The Garrison auxiliaries had conducted themselves well in that skirmish, firing off smoke shells and acoustic flares while one courageous yet inexpert soul had slashed desperately at the back of the Titan's neck. Well, at least he'd killed it before he hit the ground. 

It hadn't been the fall that killed him. His broken leg had done that, four or five days later, after infection had set in. 

Erwin climbed down the steps that led up to the parapet and made his way over to Survey headquarters, which, in this case, actually meant the old coaching inn and surrounding buildings which housed all of the soldiery. Rosenwald had, in its heyday, been home to over forty thousand people and much of the infrastructure was worn but intact. They'd even been fortunate enough to find food stores: the town's grain silo had still been usable, and there were cellars full of pickles and preserves. The attic of one house had revealed a store of apples, carefully separated from each other and definitely still edible. All in all, they had enough food to provide for around ten thousand people for a good few weeks, should there be an emergency. 

Unfortunately, they would have thirty-five thousand with the new arrivals next week, not counting any disasters at the other colony. 

His office was on the ground floor of the coaching inn, which was thoroughly useful because it meant he could see anything happening near the city gates. He nodded courteously to Guerin, who was waiting outside his door. She saluted; Levi, who was with her, made a token effort to stand up straight. 

"As you were," said Erwin, without a trace of discernible sarcasm. Guerin would be furious and his target, Levi, wouldn't care. "You're both early." 

"I received a letter from Captain Reynaud, sir," said Guerin. "I thought that you might like to read it in private." 

Levi offered no such excuse for being ten minutes early to a meeting he despised. Erwin, if he were fanciful, might have thought he seemed embarrassed by the question. 

"Come in with me," Erwin said, unlocking his door. He disposed of his cloak over the back of his chair and unfolded Reynaud's letter. The contents were fairly banal, inasmuch as any of this situation could be so described, but towards the end he found what had disturbed Guerin. _I had a letter from my mother in the capital_ …

"What's Reynaud doing writing to you, anyway?" said Levi to Guerin. He had picked up Erwin's cloak and was beginning to fold it in sections. 

"A secret love affair," said Guerin tartly. Levi snorted and subsided. In fact, it was perfectly true. Erwin idly considered the possibility of swapping Guerin for Hange, as a kindness, but discarded it. Guerin was an impeccable defensive tactician, which was vitally necessary in Rosenwald. Levi had taken the old saw about the best defence being a good offence and turned it into his personal creed. 

A knock sounded on the other side of the door, and a moment later the four auxiliary captains filed in; three Garrison, one MP. Erwin had had quite a lot to do with them over the last two months and now he thought he had a fairly good grasp on their characters. He'd been right about Jarrow, at least. 

"Thank you for coming," he said. 

"Is there news from the Walls?" asked Renata Sokolova, one of the Garrison captains. She was a tall, well-built woman with short dark hair and a jaw like granite, and responsible for the protection of the food stores. "We need to know when the next wave of refugees will be here." 

"We've been told the third of March," said Erwin. "Will that do?" 

"I guess I can manage, if I have to," she said, grimacing. "What's that bring us to – thirty-five here and fifteen thousand over in Chenzen?" 

"They've had a difficult couple of weeks," Erwin said briefly. "The soldiers there repelled an attack of nine Titans, but casualties were severe." The walls of Chenzen were less impressive than those of Rosenwald. 

"How's Mike?" Levi asked. He was perching on the corner of Erwin's desk, one foot barely touching the ground. Erwin smothered a smile. 

"As well as can be expected," he said. "They've been having problems with co-ordination of their auxiliary troops." 

He didn't look at Jarrow. Captain Marsden, formerly of Shiganshina Garrison, bristled slightly and said: "What, do they need _another_ relief force?" 

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Erwin said. "More accurately, they've had some personnel issues. Captain Woodhouse of the Garrison had taken it upon himself to countermand some of Captain Zacharias's orders without, Captain Zacharias felt, sufficient cause. Fortunately, these issues have now been resolved." 

"Woodhouse knuckled under?" Marsden asked. His eyes were narrowed, as if waiting for Erwin to explain, _again_ , why it had been necessary to place the Garrison under his own command as auxiliary troops. 

"No," said Erwin. "Tragically, he was eaten by a Titan last week. If anyone has anything they would like to read out as a eulogy, we'll be including a toast for the fallen in the speeches at the annual military banquet on Monday." 

"That still seems foolhardy to me," said Guerin. She was frowning at her hands. "I know we can afford it right now, but I don't like the idea of using too much food from our reserves." 

"We always have a banquet," said Jarrow. His arms were folded tightly across his chest. "It'll look worse if we don't, like we're afraid of something." 

"And that's the worst thing in the world, isn't it?" said Levi. He tilted his head to one side, eyeing Jarrow as a bird might a worm. "Looking like we're afraid." 

"It is if it causes a panic," Jarrow snapped back. "It's easy enough to do even in Sina; all you have to do is start a rumour about food shortages. _Anything_ could kick it off here." 

"A riot would help keep the population down," said Marsden, with a hard, cynical twist to his mouth that reminded Erwin irresistibly of Levi. "It looks like a win-win situation, doesn't it?" 

" _We_ are not the ones trying to cull the population," said Erwin, who had decided it would be best to strangle that kind of thinking at birth, inasmuch as that was possible. "Our duty here is to re-colonise as much Maria territory as we can." 

"You cannot seriously believe that's what our orders are," Marsden said. His voice had taken on an uncertain throb of emotion. His entire family was dead, Erwin recalled; they'd all lived near the outermost gate in Shiganshina. When the Colossal Titan had broken through, Marsden had – almost alone among the outermost gate guard – both held his post and survived. This assignment had been a poor reward. 

"I am absolutely certain, however, that those are what _my_ orders are," Erwin said. Marsden swallowed painfully, and dropped his gaze. 

"If we keep it to fairly modest fare, it won't be too much of a run on the reserves," said Sokolova briskly, brushing a speck of dirt away from her uniform trousers. Erwin had noticed before that she was used to cutting through the tension that usually followed Marsden's outbursts. "We can easily compensate for it with the supplies the new wave of refugees will bring with them." 

"Make the dinner a light one and make certain everyone's glasses are full, then," said Erwin. "With any luck, no one will notice a scanty meal." More to the point, it was less likely that anyone would complain. 

The agenda settled, his captains began to leave one by one, until only Levi lingered. He drew a fingertip over the polished oak of Erwin's desk, reminding Erwin of no one so much as Nile's dragon of a mother. 

"The attack yesterday came to twenty-three casualties after all," he said, apropos of nothing. 

Erwin studied him thoughtfully. "I know," he said. The report was somewhere on his desk. He didn't need it; he'd counted them for himself. 

"We lose people every day," said Levi. His eyes, flat and grey, rose to meet Erwin's. "It's worse in Chenzen. We're living on a knife's edge, Erwin. If even one thing goes wrong, we're _all_ dead." 

"Aren't you used to that?" Erwin asked. His tone held mild curiosity. 

Levi laughed; a harsh and bitter bark. "When I drink sewer water again, I'll let you know." 

"You're my canary in the coalmine," said Erwin very lightly. Levi's mouth curved upward, and then he shrugged it away. That was what he usually did when he thought he'd given away too much about himself. Erwin watched the hint of emotion disappear with a flicker of regret. 

Levi abandoned his perch on Erwin's desk, crossing to the door. Before exiting, he turned his head to ask, with a strange note in his voice: 

"You really think we can keep a functional colony going?" 

For anyone else, even Mike, Erwin would have said yes. Even now, he thought that he could hear in Levi's words a yearning for reassurance. But his relationship with him was predicated entirely on the truth, and Levi would never thank him for a compassionate lie. 

"I believe we owe it to ourselves and our people to try," he said. 

"All right," said Levi. He looked again at Erwin, hard, as if trying to discern a chink in his armour. Then he rolled his shoulders again, shaking off his preoccupation. The door closed behind him with a soft click. 

Interesting, Erwin thought. 

  


* * *

  


"All right, all right," Levi said to Netty. She was restless under his hands, her sweaty flank sliding beneath his fingertips. "What's wrong? Can you show me?" 

It was ridiculous, of course, to try and interrogate an animal, but his low tone seemed to soothe her anxiety a little. Besides, she was Levi's own mare, which gave her a leg up on the rest on the world. 

"Is something wrong with your tail?" he asked her, rounding her to have a good look at why she was holding it so high. He passed an affectionate hand over her rump and she took the opportunity to piss all over his thighs and boots. Levi jerked back in horror, with a noise not unlike the yowl of a furious cat. 

" _Disgusting_ ," he told her. This was more than ducking under the pump could fix. He could feel her urine soaking onto his skin, sticky and cooling. 

In the stall opposite, Jarrow's _fucking_ stallion neighed loudly, with about as much understanding as his owner, and kicked at his door. Levi directed a look of loathing at him. When Jarrow's laughter reached him, he wished he'd saved it. 

"Haven't you ever seen a mare in heat before?" asked Jarrow. He leaned over the partition, looking as neat as if he'd just been on parade. 

"No, she's not," said Levi. 

"I think she is," said Jarrow. 

Levi narrowed his eyes, stuck his head out of the stall, and hollered, "Merrick!" 

Technically, as a captain he outranked Merrick; in practice, all of the veterinary officers did exactly as they pleased, and hung together when any of them were questioned. Occasionally, Erwin had mused to Levi on the value of breaking their bloc. That they continued blithely on their way was, Levi considered, entirely at Erwin's pleasure. 

_He_ would have liked to have them all on the training ground at dawn, particularly when Merrick bent down, inspected Netty's vulva and said unemotionally: "Yep. Looks like heat." 

"How?" Levi rapped out. 

"Dunno," she said. She thought it over for a few more seconds. "Probably Lefroy's fault. She's been doing experiments with some of the mares – leaving a lantern burning in their stalls to trick them into thinking it's spring, that sort of thing." 

"Without telling me," said Levi. He was feeling calm fury settle over him; he welcomed it as an old friend. 

"She supervised them," said Merrick reasonably. "She wouldn't have risked the stable being set on fire." 

"I should have made it a wager," said Jarrow. "Honestly, wasn't it obvious?" 

"Not all of us had a pony when we were twelve," Levi said. Merrick, understanding that the better part of valour was discretion, was already ducking out of the stall. "This is inconvenient." 

"It could be worse," Jarrow said. His stallion whinnied and thrashed around in his own stall. Levi suppressed the urge to snarl. No use taking it out on a different dumb animal when there was one right here. "We can put her to stud, and get a decent foal for next year." 

"Really," said Levi. "We can put her to stud. With your stallion?" 

"There isn't much choice round here," said Jarrow. He seemed to sense the tension in Levi, and put up his hands in placation. "As long as she's like that, Crown will try and kick down the door. It's less trouble for everyone." 

"You want my mare out of commission for a year?" said Levi, his voice threaded with cold fury. " _This_ year?" 

"Look," said Jarrow. "You hear Crown? He's been like that for days already, and if he gets into Netty's stall, that's it anyway. We can sell the foal, if you like. Crown's a thoroughbred, so a sixty-forty split seems more than fair." 

"You're a fool," said Levi. "I courier the postbag between Rosenwald and Chenzen, you fucking moron, I need Netty." 

Jarrow's right hand was curling into a fist. Levi observed it with complacency, shifting his weight to a more solid stance. _Hit me_ , he thought. _Let's see how long a Sina pig can go before he shits himself._

"But what the fuck would you know about that, huh?" he asked aloud. "What would a smug little cock like you – "

Jarrow's fist came at him hard, but Levi saw the angle of it and barely bothered to move his head to avoid it. Erwin caught the fist in his hand with a meaty, smacking sound. Levi felt some of the tension in his shoulders lift; he was aware, distantly, that he was feeling glee. 

"Don't be any more of a fool than I took you for," Erwin said. 

"That's going to be difficult for a man like that," said Levi. 

"You're so sure I was talking to him?" Erwin said sharply. Levi couldn't stop himself reacting, but he swallowed the flash of rage before Jarrow could see it. Erwin never missed anything. 

"Commander, Captain Levi is being unreasonable," said Jarrow. "If his mare isn't put to stud, my stallion will kick and scream until the whole stable is destroyed." 

"Captain Levi is perfectly right," said Erwin. Levi crossed his arms, allowing the corner of his mouth to quirk up. "The continued use of his mare in combat is considerably more vital to the Corps than any potential foal." 

"Sir, my stallion – "

"I'm sure you understand," said Erwin, cutting Jarrow off smoothly. "It's ultimately a numbers game. If you're concerned for Crown, then I think we can agree that three weeks of recovery time after a gelding is much simpler and less troublesome than caring for Netty throughout a year-long pregnancy. Honestly, all other things being equal, I wouldn't have advised putting her to stud for at least another two or three years in any case." 

" _Geld_ Crown?" Jarrow demanded. He looked dumbfounded. The military police did like their stallions, didn't they? It always looked impressive riding in parade formation, until one of them kicked off – and then they all kicked off. 

"Only if you truly feel that it's necessary," said Erwin, sounding deeply reassuring. "If the problem persists after that, I'm sure we can retrain him." 

"That's ludicrous, Commander," said Jarrow. He glared over Erwin's shoulder. "Captain Levi is the one causing the problem, sir." 

"Unfortunately, he's not," said Erwin. "The Survey Corps don't keep stallions for exactly this reason. When we need them, we usually borrow them from the local farms. I'm sure you can see why this isn't an option in Rosenwald." 

Jarrow stared at him and Erwin looked back tranquilly, which Levi knew from experience to be his most infuriating expression. "You're dismissed, Captain." 

"Sir," said Jarrow. He saluted, clicking his heels together. Erwin watched him leave with a curious blankness. 

"Thank fuck," said Levi. 

"Don't ever do that again," said Erwin. 

"Excuse me?" Levi straightened slightly with shock. 

"You heard me." Erwin swung round on his heel to face him; Levi hadn't realised how close they were standing. His lips were whitening, pressed together and tight with anger. "I know why you do this, Levi. Do you understand yet that I will _always_ back you up?" 

Levi shook off the flinch he hadn't been able to contain. "I don't know what you think you know about me – "

"Always," said Erwin. "I would do it for any of the others, it's not just – Scouts stick together. I think I've made that very clear to you." His voice deepened; Levi felt himself respond, craning his neck to look Erwin in the face. "But I also have to keep the peace between all the branches, Levi. Stop putting me in this position." 

"All right," Levi said. He was feeling oddly light-headed. "If you say so." 

Erwin relaxed, shifting his weight back. Levi resisted the desire to touch his arm; thought about why, and then reached out his hand. It would be stranger not to touch him. 

"Sorry," he said, low. He disliked being responsible for the strained look on Erwin's face. 

"Never mind it," Erwin said. He smiled again at Levi, who dropped his hand rather than let it hang uselessly in the air. "Besides, I need you to be more conciliatory with Jarrow for other reasons." 

"Oh?" Levi asked, but Erwin didn't reply until they'd left the stable side by side. It was slightly isolated, close to the wall, and relatively few people outside the Corps ventured there. Erwin cast an apparently idle look around; there was no one. 

"Did you ever consider why someone like Jarrow was here?" he asked. 

Levi frowned. "I thought he came with the other unicorns – the protestors." 

"Amalric Jarrow is the son of Councilwoman Jarrow," said Erwin. "I assure you that's there's relatively little he could have done that was so bad she'd allow him to be culled along with the rest of us. Marry too far below himself, perhaps, but that's not the case." 

Levi thought this over. "He's a spy." 

"Just so. Captain Reynaud's mother is one of Lady Jarrow's maids; she wrote and warned him." 

"Guess I'll try and be nicer," said Levi. They were nearing the Rosenwald gate; he touched the straps of his gear for reassurance that it was still there. 

"Don't hurt yourself," said Erwin, knocking his knuckles affectionately against the back of Levi's head. "I don't want to tip my hand too soon." 

"You have a plan?" 

"Not yet," said Erwin. "We'll see." 

There was a sudden hush on the air, and Levi hesitated in his step. He looked at Erwin. 

"Well, it is three o'clock," said Erwin. "Frankly, we're overdue." 

They both fired their grappling hooks at the same moment, flying up onto the top of the wall. As Levi's feet touched the dusty brick, the bells of the old church began to ring out their warning. There were Titans on the horizon. 

The smaller two were a four metre and a seven metre respectively, approaching very quickly from the south. The walls of Rosenwald were in the shape of a five-pointed star, which meant that the two cannon Erwin had conned old man Pixis into lending them were constantly being dragged around the wall-tops. Right now they were reinforcing the northernmost and north-western points, which was very fucking useful. 

Erwin strode off as soon as he hit stone, already calling out to the soldiery. "Musketeers, to the southern points! McIntyre, Yamazaki, get those guns round here on the double! Survey, prepare to attack!" 

Levi locked both his blades into position and drew steel. He crouched on the outermost edge of the wall, sensing, rather than seeing, other Survey soldiers fall in line alongside him. He was the closest to the south-western point, which meant he and whoever was opposite him on the south-eastern point would be the first to leap if the Titans made it past the defensive line. 

"Your orders, please," said Nanaba on his left hand. On the south-eastern point opposite, a red flare went up: Titans spotted, bring cannon here. 

"Wait for my signal to launch," said Levi. There was a ring of trenches around the town five metres deep; all the earth they'd removed had been piled up behind it on the town side. If their luck held, it should scupper the four metre and severely puzzle the seven metre. If, if, if. 

Behind the two smaller Titans was a fourteen metre. It was an Abnormal, which wasn't what worried Levi: it was distracted by something in the forest, when there was a feast of humanity waiting for it in the town. 

"Oh, God," said Jarrow a metre or so away, his voice full of horror. "The woodcutters!" 

Levi cursed under his breath. The smaller two Titans were almost upon the earthworks. "Nanaba," he said. "You and Rivera handle the seven metre when it crawls out of the trench. Jarrow, as soon as the two small ones fall into the pit, we'll use our gear to intercept the Abnormal." 

"I don't think we can wait that long," said Jarrow, his face paling. Levi glanced across towards the forest, where the woodcutters had decided to make a break for it to the eastern gate. 

"That's stupid of them," he said. Even as he spoke, the Abnormal bent down to snatch one of them up, crushing the small human in its huge, sausage-like fingers. "Hold, Jarrow. I said _hold_." 

"They'll die," said Jarrow. 

The four metre Titan had fallen into the trench and was now scuffling at the sides trying to climb out. To Levi's deep annoyance, the seven metre was hesitating at the edge of it, as if it could sense something wrong. 

"We'll waste a whole lot of gas trying to get past the seven metre," he said. "We'll need it to take down an Abnormal of that size." 

The Abnormal was crunching down on a second of the woodcutters, who were now scattering back into the forest. It was a decent tactic – the Abnormal couldn't follow all of them – but it could try, and it did. It was already ambling back into the woods with that peculiar, loping walk. 

"Wait for my signal," Levi repeated. Behind him he could hear the grinding of the cannon's wheels as it rolled into place. It wouldn't do them much good at this point. He looked across to the south-eastern point where Erwin now stood, his hair bright in the afternoon sun. The second cannon was already set up beside him, and as Levi watched, it cracked out a shot far wide of the seven metre Titan. 

"What bloody use was that?" Jarrow demanded, but the seven metre Titan lurched away from the sound, losing its footing on the loose earth at the edge of the trench. Levi's arm came down even before it had hit the bottom, and they were off. 

The initial spurt of gas took them a good fifty metres away from the wall, and he and Jarrow both landed more or less gracefully. A moment later, Erwin and Guerin joined them. 

"Who has the wall?" Levi called over his shoulder, already running. 

"Marsden!" Erwin said, his long stride easily matching Levi's pace. "When we reach the trees, switch back to 3DMG." 

As he overtook Levi, he suited the action to the word and disappeared into the branches. Levi followed silently, alert and listening for the sound of a Titan crashing through the undergrowth. After a long moment, he looked at Jarrow and inclined his head to the left. Jarrow nodded. In this, at least, he'd learned to respect Levi. 

Levi leapt from one branch to the next, occasionally aided by a puff from his gear, until the noise of a Titan chewing messily was unmistakable. The next jump brought him out on the other side of a clearing from the Abnormal, who stopped when it saw them, its mouth falling open. Something dropped from its teeth, hitting the ground with a thud. Levi refused to look. 

"You're revolting," he said. The Abnormal seemed to react, cocking its head on one side, but Levi knew from experience that this was an illusion. He'd met cooing parents who insisted – just insisted, Levi! – that their baby was smiling at them, when a minute's thought should have told them it was wind. "I've seen a lot of monsters like you, and you're all repulsive." 

"Don't taunt it, Levi," said Jarrow. He was staring at whatever had fallen from its mouth. 

"Don't be stupid," said Levi. "It can't understand me. Or can you?" he added to the Titan. "Maybe all your drooling is an elaborate bluff." 

"It's coming towards us," said Jarrow. 

"I know, idiot," said Levi. Behind the Titan, Erwin and Guerin had appeared soundlessly. They were climbing higher in the tree, but they'd need another three or four minutes before they'd be able to get a good angle on the nape of the neck. "You sicken me. Not you, Jarrow." 

"Well, that's a surprise," said Jarrow, his voice weak. 

"You're grotesque," said Levi. "I want every single one of you dead and steaming at my feet. Hange wants to study you. I just think you're loathsome." 

The Titan reached up and batted at the branch Levi and Jarrow were standing on. Levi was prepared for it and leapt into the air, a spurt of gas from his gear keeping him afloat long enough for the branch to stop shaking. Jarrow slipped, unlucky, and the Titan snatched at him. Levi swore and, dropping down, drove his blades into the Abnormal's left eye. It dropped Jarrow, who grappled to a higher branch at top speed, and Levi slashed at the Titan's nose before dodging a gigantic hand clawing at its own face. As he swung up into the highest branches, Guerin made a beautiful swan dive for the sinew of its other arm, and Erwin took a surgical chunk out of its sweet spot. 

"Nicely done," said Levi, landing next to him. 

"Thank you, Levi," said Erwin. 

"Shit," said Jarrow, wiping his forehead. "Shit. Are the woodcutters all right?" 

"We'll need to corral them and escort them back," said Erwin. 

"They're not horses," said Jarrow. He wiped at his forehead again, as if he weren't sure whether the Titan's blood was gone. 

"Nevertheless," said Erwin. 

They found all the remaining woodcutters, and a head count revealed that six of them had fallen prey to the Abnormal. One of them, a young man, kept crying in a bleak, ashamed way. He'd run the other way when the Abnormal came; natural enough, but he'd run faster than the woman he was with, who had been his sister. 

"Why did I come, oh, God, why did I come," he said to himself, between gasping sobs. Levi didn't want to be the one to tell him, so he kept his silence. Jarrow seemed deeply uncomfortable about standing next to the young man, and took care to avoid him all the way back to the town walls. 

Nanaba had taken care of the seven metre, and Rivera the four metre, by the time they returned. The young man's father was at the gate to meet them, his face lined with a horrific, all-consuming anxiety, and when the young man broke from the group to rush over to him, his father let out a cry more of agony than relief. The group dispersed behind them, running to their waiting families. 

Guerin sighed next to Levi. "Same again tomorrow," she said. "Same time, same place." 

He shrugged. There wasn't much he felt he could say. 

"Also, I didn't want to mention it before," Guerin added, her brow furrowed, "but why do you smell of horse piss?" 

Levi shot her a look that should have flayed the flesh off her bones, but Erwin came up behind them before he could tear a strip off her. 

"Levi, do you want to use the tub in my quarters? You won't have to wait for the others to finish up." 

Nearly everyone in the Survey Corps must have beaten him to the baths by now. Levi nodded, falling into step with Erwin. 

"You're being nice," he said. 

Erwin laughed, the sun catching him at the right angle again. Levi wondered if he knew how effective it was, and dismissed the thought as soon as it came. Of course he did. "I'm always nice." 

"All right," said Levi. "You're being kind." 

"Yes, that's a very different thing," said Erwin. "Consider it a token of appreciation. You gave me an idea." 

"Did I?" Levi frowned up at him. "When?" 

"I'll tell you," said Erwin, "when it's a plan." 

  


* * *

  


"Left!" shouted Sokolova. Levi strained under the weight of the barrel and took an unsteady step to his left. "Left again! Forward! Forward! Now put it down!" 

Levi went to one knee, and two Garrison squaddies rushed forward to relieve him of his burden. Why they couldn't have helped before escaped him. 

"Is that all of them?" he asked. 

"Should do us for the first four hours," said Sokolova. They both regarded the rows of hogsheads with satisfaction, and, in Sokolova's case, some trepidation. "The Survey Corps really drink that much, huh." 

"We've been dry since we got here," said Levi, refusing to bristle. Sokolova snorted. So she _had_ found Guerin's still. "There won't be much food, that'll get everyone drunk quicker." 

She sighed. "Well, if we run out of alcohol, it's not on me." 

"If we run out of alcohol, it's on everyone." Levi swung out a chair that was sitting neatly against one of the long, low trestle tables that were in ranks across the room, and threw himself down. "When are those drunkards from Chenzen getting here, anyhow?" 

"Right now!" said a voice in his ear, and a pair of hands came down over his eyes. Levi removed them as he might remove a dead mouse, preserved in formaldehyde. 

"Of course it would be you," he said. 

"You're breaking my heart, Levi," said Hange. They gave a little sob, their lower lip trembling. 

"You don't have a heart to break," Levi informed them. 

"I do, too," said Hange. "I asked Erwin once if he thought I did, and he reminded me that I definitely have one in a pickle jar back in Kristenburg. So there you go." 

"It was Espinoza's," said Levi, feeling that Sokolova deserved some form of explanation. "She wanted to donate her body to science, but we couldn't afford the extra weight during the retreat." 

Sokolova looked at him with such a bizarre expression that Levi bridled. Before he could say anything, Hange interrupted with, "Can I have a drink yet? Please, please, please?" 

"No, for fuck's sake," said Levi. Sokolova seemed to let go of whatever had been bothering her, and said: 

"What's the harm? We'll be getting started in half an hour, anyway." 

The banquet, such as it was, started at sundown. It was symbolic, apparently: since Titans didn't often appear at night, the army could let their guard down. Levi wasn't sure why that was supposed to matter to the MPs. 

Erwin came in about ten minutes beforehand. He looked tired, and Levi made his way over to him, ignoring Hange's lamenting cry of: "Levi! It hasn't been five minutes, and you've already abandoned me for Erwin? I'll die, Levi! I'll die!" He hoped they'd get tired of that joke soon. 

"You're here for a party, not a funeral," he said to Erwin when he reached him. 

"So I'm told," Erwin said. He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. "The mayor wanted to lodge some last-minute objections to the feast. I understand his concerns, but…morale is relatively low among the Corps in any case. Cancelling the annual banquet would drive it down still further. And your friend Jarrow was quite right, you know – we don't want anyone to get a sniff of something off." 

"He's pissed off that the civilian feast ended in a Titan attack," said Levi. 

"That, too," said Erwin. "But there's nothing to be done about it now. Did the party from Chenzen get here safely?" 

"No losses," Levi said. "Mike and Reynaud should be around here somewhere – they weren't a big group, most of them are sticking with their own banquet there." 

"Understandably," said Erwin. "Whom did they leave in command of the Chenzen garrison?" 

"Beevor from the eastern Maria lot," Levi said. "Don't _worry_ about it, Erwin. Go and have a drink with Mike." 

"Levi…" Erwin said. He trailed off and then said, with a brief, barely-there smile: "You think I should play favourites?" 

Levi forced himself not to flush. "I think you shouldn't bother screwing around with politics tonight." 

"I thought I was supposed to have fun," Erwin said plaintively. 

"I hear other people get laid," said Levi, trying not to sound like he cared too much. 

"Yes," said Erwin with a faintly wistful note in his voice. Levi's suspicions were instantly aroused. "That's what I hear, too." 

"Ugh, fuck off," Levi said, aborting what had clearly been a terrible idea from the beginning. 

The meal was being doled out when he made it back to his seat, and he was just in time to stab Hange in the hand with his fork. They forsook Levi's slice of beef in favour of staying on his good side ("Do you have one of those?") and the chatter moved on. 

"How _are_ things at Chenzen?" asked Sokolova. Levi, who also wanted to know, failed to squash this attempt at friendly conversation. 

"Pretty shitty," said Hange. "We've set up a ton of earthworks outside our walls – tiger pits, that kind of stuff. We've been digging a slit trench that's about seven metres deep, that takes care of the little ones, but you try getting people to dig when Titans can attack any minute. I'm really glad to be away from there, you know?" 

Levi crunched his way through a pickled onion – he was getting tired of pickles already – and washed it down with a gulp of his beer. Next to him, he felt the bench dip slightly with someone else's weight. 

"Evening," Jarrow said to him. 

"You're late," said Levi in reply. 

"Pass the pickles, please. I was trying to talk the mayor out of writing to Mitras about your commander." 

" _You_ were – " Levi closed his mouth abruptly. He passed the pickled onions. 

"Yes." Jarrow forked four or five out of the jar onto his plate and screwed the lid back on half-heartedly, as if he planned on eating more than his share later. "You Survey Corps people have a lot to learn about talking to civilian government, you know. You can't just tell 'em how it's going to be. You've got to smile at them and agree with everything they say, and then do whatever you want later." 

"Sounds pretty two-faced," said Levi. 

"'S the way of the world," said Jarrow, his mouth full. Hideous. Erwin said bad manners were the mark of the truly well-bred, and no one as middle-class as Hange could ever match it. Levi hadn't believed him until now, in this etiquettical nadir. "Wait, was that disapproval? I can't tell when it's you." 

"No one can," said Hange affably. Such a traitor. "I'm Hange Zoe, by the way, who are you?" 

Introductions were made, and Levi carefully considered his options as he dug into his mashed potatoes. His instinct was to run Jarrow off; not to the extent of actually throwing him from the wall, but certainly by blocking any further overtures. That said, Erwin had suggested the best way to protect the Corps from an interloper was to feign friendliness, and Levi was not so wedded to gut instinct as to disregard good advice. Feigning actual friendliness was beyond him, but a cessation of open hostility had occasionally been mistaken for something similar. 

He was about to open his mouth again when Erwin, up on the dais with Mike and a couple of civilians, knocked his fork against the metal of his tankard. It rang out loudly, causing a lull in the conversation. Erwin rose. 

"It's time for the real business of the evening to start," he said, causing a ripple of amusement. The servers – mostly the lowliest of cadets – were weaving their way among the tables, setting out the spirits and clean cups. Levi and Sokolova reached for the vodka at the same time; Levi won, pouring himself out a finger. "First, to the comrades fallen this year in battle. Usually, we would read out a list of names." He bowed his head. "This year, our sacrifices have been without number." 

There was a heavy silence in the air. The only people who didn't pause were the servers, still pouring busily into cups. They didn't step back until they were finished. 

"We know their names," said Erwin. "They are written on our hearts. So for those who have sacrificed – I ask you to sacrifice your first drink." 

A soft huff of laughter flowed around the room. Levi took his cup, turned it upside-down and dumped out the vodka on the ground. Someone would have to clean that up tomorrow – but that was the real sacrifice. 

"Secondly," said Erwin, "we must salute the courageous people who came out on this expedition with us." He turned and placed his hand over his heart, smiling at the two civilian reps at his table. They were wearing light blue armbands, and looked rather embarrassed to be singled out. "To the people of Wall Maria!" 

"Wall Maria," murmured everyone, and drank. 

"Finally," said Erwin, "I propose a toast to you." Levi felt Jarrow sit bolt upright next to him. "Your bravery, faith and integrity show the world why humanity is worth saving. The Corps!" 

"The Corps!" said Hange, downing their drink with gusto. Sokolova knocked hers back and reached for the bottle again. Levi hesitated, his cup at his lips, until Erwin's eyes found him in the crowd and their gaze locked. Levi drank. 

"It's supposed to be the King!" said Jarrow in an urgent undertone. "The last toast is always to the King!" 

"He didn't toast to the success of the expedition, either," said Hange, sniggering into their cup. "I think maybe they're _connected_." 

"I propose a toast to you shutting your fucking mouth," said Levi. 

"Typical," said Sokolova, pouring another round for everybody. "That's how it always is – Survey pushes, Garrison pulls, MPs tell us we're doing it wrong." Levi shot her a sharp look, and realised that she was almost entirely sober. 

"You think it was a mistake?" Jarrow said, looking at her sideways. 

"I think the Commander probably wanted to keep it short and sweet," said Sokolova. "And let's face it, the King isn't here to be offended." She patted Jarrow on the arm. 

"Who wants to toast first?" said Hange too cheerily. "Levi, did you have one?" 

Levi glared at them. He said, "To a good year," and drank. 

"That was terrible," Hange said. "That's the most boring toast I've ever heard a scout come up with. Levi's actually a really boring person, Jarrow." 

Their foot knocked Levi's, which he supposed was a rudimentary apology. 

"That's not the word I would have used," Jarrow said. Hange laughed loudly. 

"Nobody understands him like I do! Here, I've got one." They held out their cup. Sokolova, now the custodian of the vodka bottle, passed it round again. "To the Survey Corps, everyone – under-paid, under-manned and underground!" 

"Hah," said Levi, tossing his shot back. He felt a warm, grudging admiration in his chest for Hange, although he was aware that that was probably the alcohol burning his gullet. That one always came up at any mixed military gathering, and if Jarrow had said it, Levi would have had to deck him for being such an asshole. Now no one else would. 

"You're such a lightweight, Levi," Hange said. They sounded fond. 

  


* * *

  


Erwin cracked his neck, feeling his muscles loosen in response. The evening had gone well. The mayor had been placated, or at least had stopped talking long enough for Erwin to make his excuses and leave before the banquet officially started. There hadn't been any fights at the banquet itself, even when he'd saluted the Corps and not the King. This didn't give Erwin any undue security – he wasn't sure most people had even noticed the difference, much less divined a political subtext from it – but whatever came next, he could at least say he'd been consistent. It was good to develop a reputation as an honest man. 

He'd enjoyed an interesting, if not reassuring, conversation with Margaret Andersen, the director of the makeshift hospital in Rosenwald. It was a little distressing to learn that just talking about the scarcity of medical supplies in the town made her so stressed out she felt the need to consume two bottles of wine, but on the upside she had remained both upright and largely coherent throughout the evening, unlike Mike. 

Mike had sloped off to the bunk provided for him a few minutes earlier, silently queasy. Erwin had considered following him to check that he was all right, but eventually had decided against it. If he were ill, then Erwin would undoubtedly be up all night looking after him, and they needed at least one member of the military hierarchy to be in a rational frame of mind the next morning. 

Erwin himself was hardly drunk at all. He ambled down the corridor to his room, feeling only that he was pleased with himself and the world around him. His bedroom door was unlocked, but this fact only mildly perturbed him. The culprit, as it turned out, was Levi. 

"Good evening," he said to the small figure lying on his bed. He received no reply, and sat down on the blanket instead. He shook Levi's shoulder gently. 

"Ngh," said Levi. Dead drunk. 

"What are you doing here, Levi?" Erwin asked. Levi's train of thought was fairly transparent – he'd thought of something he had to tell Erwin right away, had made his way here, and fallen asleep waiting for Erwin's return. It only remained to be seen what it was he'd wanted to say. 

Levi frowned, seeming to wake up slightly. "I…had something to tell you," he said. 

"I know," said Erwin patiently. "What was it?" 

"You're wrong," said Levi. He mashed at his cheek, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes and missing. "…About Jarrow." 

"Am I?" said Erwin, intrigued. It did happen, of course. 

"Yeah," said Levi. "I didn't – I don't…"

Erwin waited. 

"I'm not _testing_ you," said Levi, his eyes clearing a little more. He struggled to sit up and Erwin assisted him, placing one strong arm under his back and half-lifting him against the headboard. "I know. I _know_." 

"All right," said Erwin. He allowed himself the indulgence of brushing Levi's fringe back from his face, which was pale and sickly from drink. 

"He's the enemy," said Levi. 

"He's _an_ enemy," Erwin corrected. Levi swatted this away with his hand, waving it once definitely and the second time uncertainly. 

"They can all go to hell," he said. "I'll make it happen." 

"I see," said Erwin. He could hear himself breathing, very softly and lightly, as if anything heavier might break up this moment. 

"That's the deal," said Levi. "I said."

"Yes," said Erwin. "You did say." 

Levi's stare was even and calm, not glassy. He spoke in the clear, overly-enunciating fashion of the very drunk and very sincere. "I am the sword in your hand." 

"That's poetic," said Erwin. He could not really justify it to himself, but he smoothed his fingertips over Levi's hairline again. Levi looked up at him, his lips parted. 

Someone hammered on the door. 

"Commander!" 

He jumped up, thankful that he was still wearing his harness. Levi blinked, seeming to notice their surroundings for the first time. "Did I fall asleep?" 

Erwin strode across to the door and opened it slightly, just enough that he could bodily block anyone from seeing inside. "What is it?" 

It was the mayor's tired-looking maid. Her hair was still tied up in its nightly braid, and she looked like she'd dressed in a hurry, her shift lumpy and visible beneath her dress. 

"You've got to come, sir," she said. "Miss has disappeared, and she's not the only one." 

His blood ran cold, and he felt his fingers clench white on the doorframe. The mayor's own daughter? 

"Not the only one?" he asked. 

"We've had four or five families come banging on our door, sir," she said. "Everyone's got someone missing." She added belatedly, "I'm sorry to wake you up." 

Erwin had been expecting this; now it had happened he felt cold determination settle over him. "That's quite all right," he said. "Bear with me one moment." 

He closed the door in her face, and went over to the dresser where a ewer of water stood ready for his morning wash. Fortunately, the chill of the night meant that it was cool to the touch. Levi was still looking bewildered. Erwin dashed the contents of the jug in his face and put it down on the bedside table. 

"Drink what's left," he ordered, "and roust out any scout who can still sit a horse. I want you assembled in the courtyard in half an hour." 

"What's happened?" Levi asked. He was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and sounded much more alert. 

"Our first mass escape," said Erwin. 


	3. Blood in the Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Survey Corps rides out to rescue the escapees, but who are they really helping?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a nightmare and eventually had to be split up into two parts, with all the writing I'd done so far in the second half. As a result, Chapter 4 will be up somewhat quicker than usual!

Levi stormed down the corridor, hammering on doors as he went. 

"GET UP!" he hollered, slamming open the door to one room full of particularly recalcitrant drunks. "Out in the yard, now!" 

"Why, Captain?" asked Katze, rubbing her nose miserably. 

"We've had a breakout," Levi said, modulating his tone slightly. Slightly. "Tell everyone you see to form up in the yard, I don't care how pissed they are." 

He spun on his heel and left her to crawl back into her uniform. She should have been wearing gear to bed like everyone else; or, at least, like Levi and Erwin did, he wasn't personally acquainted with anyone else's sleepwear. Hange was already outside when he found them, eyes clear and mostly sober. It usually took four or five shots just to make them stop twitching. 

"This is a clusterfuck and we haven't even left yet," they said. "What the hell does Erwin expect? We can't launch a rescue mission like this!" 

"We have to," Levi said. He bent to re-buckle the strap around his right knee, gritting his teeth when his lazy fingers fumbled it. "The mayor's own daughter is missing." 

Hange let loose a brief imprecation to any god listening, and began to check their own gear over as well. "Is Mike up?" 

"I haven't seen him," said Levi. 

"Well, he was pretty legless when Erwin hauled him off to bed, so that's not a good start." They pushed a stray lock of hair off their forehead. It was still sweaty from the banquet. "We could really use him to sniff out any Titans." 

"Um, Captain?" 

"Yes?" said Levi and Hange together, turning. Brand flinched from them and coloured up to her hairline. She was one of the bright young hopefuls in Guerin's personal squad, or at least had been before she was assigned here. 

"I, um, I wanted to ask if we know who else is missing?" 

"About thirty people," said Hange. "That's what Erwin said when he saw me, anyway. It might be more by now." 

"And, er," said Brand, chewing on her bottom lip. "Are we going right away?" 

"Sauced, are you?" Levi asked. Brand immediately looked like she might cry from sheer humiliation. He said hurriedly: "Just go and stick your head under the pump. Erwin threw a whole jug of water at me and I'm all right now." 

Brand nodded gratefully and scurried off. 

"Are you honestly okay?" said Hange, cocking their head to one side. 

Levi did not snap round to glare at them. He was highly aware of the looseness of his limbs. Balancing his head on his shoulders was something which required a modicum of conscious effort, and he disliked the sensation. 

"I'm fine," he said. 

"I'll take your word for it," said Hange dryly. "This is going to be a mess any way you slice it. We'll have to take linkmen just so we can see the Titans coming. I'm going to _kill_ Erwin." 

"He's not here yet," Levi said. 

" _And_?" 

"He's probably still arguing with the mayor." 

His squad turned up just then, Hilde leaning heavily on Eld's shoulder. She didn't seem entirely able to stand up on her own two feet, so Levi ordered her to go and sleep it off. Casting a jaundiced eye around the rest of his sorry lot, he enquired: "Who else is too bladdered to fight?" 

"Not me," said Eld with a passable salute. 

"I'm all right, sir," said Katze, thumping her chest. Levi had his private doubts, but he pushed them aside. Not the time. 

"You'll do," he said. "Go and ask Guerin to send whatsherface, Brand, over here. We need a fourth to make up a diamond formation." 

Eld sloped off just as Erwin came out into the courtyard. Guerin had been waiting for him with his horse, and he swung up into the saddle. 

"Survey Corps!" he shouted. They were all scouts here, Levi realised suddenly. Erwin hadn't bothered to roust out the Garrison. Erwin wasn't _sure_ of the Garrison, when it came to the crunch. "Thirty men and women have left this colony! We cannot know their reasons, but their lives are in deadly peril! It is vital that we find them before dawn, when the Titans wake!" 

A murmur arose from the assembled Corps, but there was no protest as the gates were winched open. Glancing over their massed ranks, Levi estimated about fifty scouts on horseback, at least half of whom carried some form of lantern for the benefit of the rest. Nocturnal expeditions were rare, and usually not worth the hassle of outfitting them. 

The moon was waxing and nearly full overhead as Levi and Netty picked their way carefully along the Trost road. They wouldn't be stupid enough to go off the path, would they? Would they even notice if they did? The best hope the escapees had was a lengthy head start. They'd lost that; they couldn't be more than an hour ahead and they'd be on foot. 

"I feel like we should have brought nets," Katze whispered behind him. Levi almost wheeled on her, but there was nothing he could say. They _were_ trying to recapture them. 

They spotted no Titans along the way, which was odd for a party of their size. Maybe Hange was right, and they did sleep. Night attacks on Rosenwald were rare, not more than two or three since they'd arrived. Levi nosed his horse through the formation until he was level with Erwin and his makeshift command squad. 

"Any sign of them?" he asked. 

"They definitely came this way," said Erwin. His mouth was tight, a muscle leaping in his jaw. Levi looked down at the ground, observing the minor signs that a large group had passed this way recently. All the human debris discarded by the last wave of refugees had been trampled or kicked aside. He squinted into the darkness. Outside the flickering circle of light provided by Erwin's lantern, he could see very little. 

The one expedition where Mike's sniffer dog skills might actually come in handy – 

His own nose caught the edge of a familiar scent. 

Levi edged Netty ahead of Erwin and his mount. "Slow down," he said. Erwin raised a hand, signalling the rest of the Corps. Levi took the lantern and rode on alone, following the stench of blood. 

He saw first the sole of someone's shoe, their foot at a weird angle, and then the rest of their leg up to the knee. After that there was nothing; the knee had been chewed. He dismounted and followed the trail carefully, in case he stepped on anything. A little further on he came to a coagulated mess of what might have been three or four people, hacked up like a giant, messy hairball. 

Netty nuzzled at his shoulder. Recalled to himself, Levi remounted and rode back towards Erwin. The Corps spread out when he gave them the news, looking for more bodies. Erwin himself called out to Nanaba, who turned out to be carrying large swathes of cloth in her panniers. Not white cloth; that wasn't easy to come by. These looked like somebody's curtains, floral and kitschy. 

"I don't know how to divide up the bits," said Levi. 

"Never mind that now," said Erwin. "Wrap them up and secure them in the wagon. We'll sort them out when we've returned safely." 

The eventual conclusion, when the Corps returned to formation, was that between eight and ten of the thirty or so escapees had been killed by a Titan. Presumably the others had fled while it was distracted by munching or picking its teeth. It wouldn't have given up, though. Levi stared ahead of them on the road, barely hearing the order to advance. He was still feeling weird and unbalanced; _drunk_ , his mind told him uncompromisingly. He took a deep breath. Not the time. 

It was a good fifteen minutes later when they heard voices in front of them. The escapees sounded frightened and worried, and quickly turned to panic at the sound of hooves behind them. Two or three tried to make a break for it; Levi spurred his horse and galloped before them, forcing them back into the rapidly-forming circle. 

"Good evening," Erwin said. It must have been three o'clock at least, but Levi supposed _good morning_ was even less appropriate by Erwin's standards. "We've come to escort you back." 

A sob broke from one of the escapees. They all looked exhausted in the unforgiving lamplight, desperate and frustrated. They must have been telling themselves that the sacrifices would be worth it, if they only made it back to Wall Rose. The thought was unpleasantly familiar, and Levi shoved it aside. 

"We're not going back," said one woman, thrusting herself in front of the other escapees as if she could protect them from Erwin with her body. Her face rang a bell in Levi's mind: she was Antonia Ritter, the mayor's daughter, and apparently the ringleader of this excursion. "We'd rather die than live another day in that hellish place." 

"There's no need for that," said Erwin. He was chillingly calm; Levi had never liked that expression on him. "It's not safe here. Come back with us peacefully, and we'll discuss it like rational people." 

" _Rational_?" Ritter's tired face whitened with fury. "This whole fucking thing is madness! The only sane people are here in this circle with me. Either we can sit on our backsides and wait to be eaten behind those useless walls, or we can die trying for something better." 

"Something?" Erwin asked, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. Levi wanted to hit him. 

"Anything," said Ritter. "Are we human or cattle?" 

"That's unnecessarily apocalyptic," said Erwin. 

"Unnecessarily? The human race is _dying_." Ritter gestured sharply to the people massed behind her. There were about twenty of them, almost a third must have been lost. "All I want is to protect my corner of the world." 

Erwin said nothing. It was the kind of selfish temptation that Levi knew crossed his mind occasionally, and now was the worst possible time. 

"Enough," he said. "We can't stand here arguing all night." 

"If this is a real expedition, we should be free to leave," said Ritter. "Are we prisoners?" 

"This is a _military_ expedition, and no, you're not," said Guerin hotly. Her reins were clenched tightly in her fist. Erwin was still silent. It reminded Levi eerily of riding next to him down the high street in Trost or Karanese. 

"You have a choice," he said. Erwin would hate this. He sounded flat and alien even to himself. "If you choose to go, we'll force you back to Rosenwald. A lot of people will die. If you choose to come with us, we'll protect you on the way back to the town." 

"That's some fucking choice," Ritter said. 

"It's still a choice," Levi began, but Erwin cut across him, saying: "We don't have any other terms to offer you." 

"No," said Ritter. She looked ready to stand there until they all died of old age. 

It was quicker than that, when they heard the strange, throaty rasp of a Titan nearby. The Survey Corps wheeled fast, their lanterns jerking in a wild frenzy of light that illuminated nothing. 

"Did anyone hear where it came from?" Guerin shouted. 

"West," said Katze beside him. "I think it was – "

There was a scream of horror, abruptly cut off, and then taken up by people on all sides. Erwin was bellowing to the troopers on the southern edge of the circle to part and let the civilians through, but it was useless. The Titan had already broken through the tight corral and was wreaking havoc. Even the Survey horses, bred to be phlegmatic, were screeching and scattering. Levi threw down his lantern, which went out, and shouted to his squad. 

"Form diamond! Deploy gear!" 

He shot his own anchor into the meat of the Titan's shoulder and let the gas carry him part of the way. Was it an Abnormal? It had to be an Abnormal, nine metres high and –

It brushed petulantly at the grappling hook embedded in its flesh and dislodged it easily; Levi flailed in mid-air, his limbs refusing to obey him as swiftly as he was used to, and fired desperately at a nearby tree. He couldn't regain his equilibrium in time and connected painfully with the trunk a few feet from the ground and slid down. His head felt like it was bleeding, but it always felt like that when he knocked it. He could imagine the blood trickling down into his eyes and wiped at it angrily.

His squadmates were still trying to pull a diamond cross without him: Eld was slashing at its left hamstring; Brand, whose gear seemed to be broken, at the tendon of its ankle. Katze was shooting her anchor at its neck, but even nine metres below and half a world away Levi could see she'd miscalculated her trajectory. She hit a tree on the other side of the road, much harder than he had. She'd thought she had a killing blow. Someone with a lantern was running towards her; he could see her red hair shining in the low light. His throat hurt, as if he'd been yelling. 

"Move, get out of there!" Hange hollered at Brand. They fired their hook into its thigh and swung upwards even as Levi sprinted for the Titan. It ignored Hange and moved purposefully towards Levi – _yes, good_ – 

Brand shoved him out of the way just as the panicking horse stampeded past. For a moment after hitting the dirt, Levi was so disoriented that he didn't understand where the human cry of agony had come from, nor the unnaturally light thud just beyond him and the rush of steam. The horse was long gone; good riddance. Hange was – Hange was walking away, both their blades bloody and smoking. He forced himself onto his knees. 

"Levi! Are you all right?" 

It was Erwin's voice, laced with concern. Levi opened his mouth to reply, but his stomach revolted and he threw himself forward on his hands. The alcohol felt like acid coming back up, and his queasiness did not abate with the rising stench of his own vomit burning his nostrils. 

"Here," said Erwin, offering his water-skin, but Levi pushed it away. 

"Brand," he said. "Is she – "

Erwin's hand tightened briefly on his shoulder. "I'll see to her," he said. 

Brand's arm had been crushed by the horse's hooves. The ride back was hellishly painful for her, constantly jolted around in Netty's saddle, and she kept letting out whimpers through gritted teeth. It was still better than the other option, which was to ride in the wagon with the corpses. The survivors from the group of escapees rode, too; there were more than enough horses by then for the three of them. 

When they reached Rosenwald, Levi handed Brand into the dubious care of the hospital staff, who at least seemed a lot more sober than the Corps had been when they rode out. Then he followed Erwin and Antonia Ritter back to the mayor's house, where all the lamps were still lit.

"Antonia!" her father cried, running down the steps to greet her, but Ritter held him off. Her face was hard and set. 

"I'm sorry for your losses," she said to Erwin, her voice as even as his but a thread of strain betraying the enormous amount of self-control it took to keep it that way. "But we didn't ask you to come after us. We didn't _want_ you to come after us." 

"No, you didn't," said Erwin. He addressed the mayor directly for the first time. "The Corps cannot afford to do this again." 

"Excuse me?" said the mayor, his voice cracking with dismay. "You're supposed to protect us!"

"We have lost thirteen scouts to this retrieval," said Erwin. "This, to regain three resentful, terrified malcontents. We _cannot_ afford this many casualties for so little gain." He looked at Ritter, his gaze steady. "The next time anyone tries to escape, we'll let them go." 

"That's good to hear," she said levelly. 

"No," said Erwin, cool and remote. "It's merely pointless. They won't make it back to Wall Rose. This town is an island of comparative safety. Without 3DMG and the ability to use it – or at least a fast horse – you'll die out there." 

Ritter nodded, not as if she agreed, but as if to say she had understood. She said, "I wonder what would happen if someone did make it back to Wall Rose." 

"I don't," Erwin said briefly. He and Levi turned as one to walk away. At the street corner, Levi glanced back over his shoulder: Antonia Ritter was still standing there, watching them.

"Someone could get over the wall in secret if they had gear," Levi observed. 

"Just so," said Erwin, sounding weary. "It would be deeply unpleasant for anyone to be caught trying to return via the gate." 

"Tch." Levi grimaced at his shoes. "After all that, to get done over by the Garrison." He glanced up into Erwin's face, which was pale and tired in the moonlight. "You should go to bed." 

"I think at this point I'm too tired to sleep," said Erwin. He passed a hand over his face, hiding a fleeting frown from everyone except Levi. 

"That's bullshit," Levi said. "There's no such thing." 

"You've never reached a tipping point of exhaustion?" Erwin asked. He smiled very slightly, which annoyed Levi even more. 

"No, and neither have you." 

"We're not all superhuman," Erwin said. 

Levi shoved his hands in his pockets, unsure of whether or not Erwin was paying him a compliment. He could not decide how to reply. 

"Try harder," he suggested. He'd only meant to give Erwin some shit, but it tasted like the wrong thing to say even as it left his mouth. They walked the rest of the way back to the barracks in silence.

  


* * *

  


Erwin let out a long breath and rubbed at the hollow of his eye. One o'clock already? 

His chair grated against the floorboards as he pushed his weight back and bent to unlock his desk drawer. The bottle of whiskey Nile had given him was still there, wonder of wonders, and about half-full. He was a little surprised that no one had broken into his office for it. Apparently Levi had kept its existence to himself. 

Well. Who would he have told? 

He exited headquarters with a purposeful stride, holding the bottle loosely by the neck. They were going to have to set up a real street-cleaning crew, he thought, avoiding a mess of excrement on the pavement. It was _probably_ equine. 

The hospital was bustling when he entered the building, with an exhausted-looking nurse interviewing patients in the lobby with a clipboard. Most of them were given numbers and told to wait; one or two were hurried off into the main ward. 

"Commander! Just in time." 

He turned to see Margaret Andersen, the hospital director, advancing upon him. She was a woman in her sixties, of medium height, with iron-grey hair and the look of a hungry starling. Her career had been a lengthy one, and she'd been one of the very few people here who had volunteered to come. 

"I hope I wasn't late," he said. 

"We would have waited," she said. "Best for you to see her beforehand. Better for her, too." 

She followed this rather grim declaration with a jerk of her head towards the door, which led ultimately to the room which passed for an operating theatre here. Erwin rounded the doorframe, already raising the bottle in offering. 

"I come bearing gifts, cadet," he said. 

Gisela Brand was already struggling to sit up. Erwin moved forward to assist her in case she tried to put any weight on her crushed arm. "Really, Commander?" she said, her eyes brightening as he supported her shoulders. "I thought I'd have to do without." 

"Never fear," said Erwin, smiling. He repressed the urge to shoot Margaret Andersen a worried glance. "Is there a cup we can use?" 

"Eh, use my mug," said Andersen, tossing the last dregs of her tea out of the window. "That's the fourth time I've used those leaves anyway." 

She rinsed the mug out with a few drops from the water jug to remove the acrid taste, and passed it over. Erwin filled it almost to the top and then put it into Gisela's working hand. 

"Should I drink all of it?" she asked rather dubiously. 

"It'll make the next ten minutes a lot easier if you do," Erwin said. Not least for him and Dr Andersen. 

"Ten minutes?" said Andersen, cackling. "They used to call me Three-Minute Maggie, back in the day. That was before chloroform got popular, mind you." 

"That was before my time," Erwin said with the greatest appearance of regret. 

"That was before you were born," said Andersen, scoffing. To Gisela, she added: "I've taken off more limbs than you've had hot dinners, young lady. Don't worry about a thing." 

"I'm sure it'll be all right," Gisela said, forcing a smile. She took a large sip of the whiskey, looking for all the world like a teenage girl nursing a mug of hot chocolate. Eighteen. What had Erwin been doing at eighteen? Much the same, surely, but with both arms. 

"You couldn't be in safer hands," Erwin said. "Honestly, the whiskey's just a well-deserved treat." 

Her smile warmed a trifle, and then she seemed to hesitate and cast her gaze down into the mug. "Um…"

"What is it?" 

"Um, is Captain Levi all right?" Even asking a perfectly natural question seemed to embarrass her. 

"You saved him," said Erwin gently, trying not to make it any worse. "He's in fine form. I've had him commanding the walls for the last two days, but he'll be along to see you this evening." 

"I'm not his squad or anything," she said immediately, sounding choked with mortification. 

"That doesn't matter," said Erwin firmly. "You're not my squad, either, but no one in the Corps is more grateful to you than I am for what you did." 

"Thank you," Gisela said, her voice muffled. She took another swallow of the whiskey; the mug was nearly empty. 

"I think he'll be very glad to see that you're recovering." Behind him, Erwin could hear the clink of Margaret Andersen setting out her surgeon's knife and bone-saw. He straightened and squared his shoulders, blocking Gisela's view. "I'll be here to hold your other hand, all right?" 

She nodded. The whiskey was doing its work, and she seemed afraid of trying to use her tongue. Erwin squeezed her good hand. "Would you like a blindfold?" She nodded again and he found his handkerchief and tied it round her head. 

"Think of all the nice things you'll get to do when you're invalided out," he said. "Where do your parents live, Gisela?" 

"…Orvud…" she said, faintly slurring her speech. 

"Ah, that's a long journey. You can take in the sights, though, on a long journey. There are some lovely parks in Mitras." 

"Aren't they…p-private…?"

"I'll write you a letter of introduction to the people who own them," Erwin said, romancing. He was not at all sure who those people were, but it was unimportant. Levi certainly would. Levi's ability to hold a grudge against the rich of Sina was unmatched in his experience. 

Gisela giggled a little, and was still giggling when her shoulders launched up off the table and a scream tore from her throat like a dying animal. 

"Hold her down!" snapped Margaret Andersen, her surgeon's knife bloody in her hand. Erwin bore Gisela inexorably back down on the operating table. She was emitting horrified sobs beneath him and as Andersen went about her grisly work with the bone-saw she made a terrified keening noise that almost undid Erwin's resolve. He was counting off the seconds in his head – _ninety, ninety-one, ninety-two_ – as the horrendous grind of the saw ceased and Andersen began to tie off the arteries and dress the stump. _One hundred and thirty-six_. 

"There," said Andersen. Erwin looked down at Gisela and found that she had, mercifully, fainted. 

"Will she live?" he asked. 

"Maybe," said Andersen. "Probably, even, if infection doesn't set in. It could have been a lot worse." 

Erwin let go of Gisela's remaining hand and stood up. There wasn't very much blood on him, he noted with some surprise. It didn't seem worth changing his shirt. "What's your survival rate like?" 

Andersen's face creased in a sneer. "Mine, or those damn butchers I have to babysit?" 

"Yours," said Erwin. "Are you having problems?" 

"I doubt you can hire better than this bunch of village barbers," she said, casting a contemptuous look at the door. "Back in the day, I'd say two-thirds of my patients survived a surgery like that. A lot less for a thigh amputation, a bit better if it was just a foot. Had one girl – she was a Scout like you, and I took her foot off. Well, she woke up an hour later, thanked me for the bit of sticking plaster, and made my apprentice boost her up into the saddle. Lived, too." 

"I think that might have been my old squad leader," said Erwin, buttoning his jacket over the tiny bloodstain. "Ingrid Kerner?" 

"I never knew her name," said Andersen. "Anyway, that was when I had chloroform. Bottles and bottles of the stuff. If I'd known, I would've stockpiled it." 

"How badly off are we for anaesthesia?" Erwin asked quietly, unwilling to wake Gisela. He bent down and retrieved his handkerchief, which had loosened around her head. 

"We ration it," said Andersen. "It's kept strictly for operations we predict will take fifteen minutes or more. It's not as bad as you think. Some of this useless lot never got a sniff of it even before Wall Maria fell; they're from right out in the sticks." 

"I'll see what I can do to improve our supply when I visit the capital," said Erwin. 

"Oh, you're going, are you?" 

"I'll come back." 

"If I had any money," she said, "I'd ask you to get me a box of fancy chocolate." 

"If they're selling it, I will," Erwin said. "Mitras has been affected by the food shortages as well."

"They'll be selling it," said Margaret Andersen. She seemed to find it a very grim joke. Erwin reflected that she was probably right. 

He went back to his office, leaving the rest of the bottle for Gisela when she woke up. He finished the death notices from yesterday – only two so far, from an Abnormal at around midday, although there were three more casualties that Erwin mentally marked as "pending". He was beginning a letter to Mike updating him on the situation, intended for the Chenzen postbag, when the bells rang out. _Another_ Titan attack. 

Erwin strode out of his office and glanced up at the walls, shielding his eyes with his hand. Levi and Guerin were both up there: he could hear their voices ringing out commands. 

He sighed, and went back inside. There really wasn't anything he could do to help them at this point. 

It was dusk when Levi marched into his office, still in full gear. He didn't bother to sit – couldn't, actually – but he leaned forward, resting his weight on the back of the chair opposite Erwin. 

"Four dead, two of them Garrison," he said. "How was _your_ day?" 

"I wrote a great many letters and I assisted rather poorly in an amputation," said Erwin. "Which reminds me: go and look in on Gisela Brand, won't you? I think she'd appreciate a visit from the heroic Captain Levi." 

"Don't," said Levi, his voice harsh. Erwin sat up, cold, knowing what he would say next before he spoke. "I already did." 

"Ah," said Erwin. _A two-thirds survival rate is only a probability, after all._ "I'm sorry." 

Levi shook his head. "I don't understand why she did it," he said. 

"Because she was a very brave young woman," said Erwin. "And – romantic. In the classical sense, I mean. She believed in the ideal of humanity, and in self-sacrifice." 

She had also had an enormous crush on Levi, but somehow he didn't think that bringing it up would make Levi or Gisela Brand, or indeed Erwin himself, feel any better. 

Levi shifted restlessly, his hands fidgeting on the back of the chair. "So you say – honour her sacrifice by moving forward?" 

"I can't imagine ever telling you anything else," said Erwin simply. 

They were silent together for a long while: Levi struggling to overcome the stark misery in his face, and Erwin watching him. There was less than a metre between them. Erwin could move around the broad expanse of the desk and – do something, but no rational idea presented itself to him. He could only imagine absurdities, like putting his arms around Levi and pressing his nose into his neck. There had been traces of carbolic soap behind Levi's ears this morning, leftover from his wash. Even after the sweat of the day, or the splash of Titan blood, some hint of it might remain. 

He sat there motionless, tense with the nonsensical need to touch Levi, until Levi lifted his head.

"I came in to take Katze's letter off your hands," he said stiffly. "Don't worry about it. I'll write it." 

"Ah, it's done," said Erwin apologetically. He sifted through the pile in his out-tray, which was laden with death notices, and retrieved the one addressed to Katze's sister. "I try not to fall behind." 

"Oh." Levi took it, his fingers looser than usual. Erwin hesitated for a moment before letting go. "I thought you'd send a printed one." 

"No," said Erwin. His right hand ached horribly, but it was nothing worth mentioning. "I thought that writing them by hand was the least I could do. Captain Hartmann has been very helpful." 

"I've never spoken to her." Levi thumbed the envelope, and then seemed to come to some kind of decision. He sat down. "What's left?" 

"What isn't left," said Erwin, giving into the desire to rub the bridge of his nose. "If you want to write death notices, you could start with today's." 

Levi twitched a sheet of paper away from beneath Erwin's fingertips, and took up a pen. His handwriting was minute and careful, and his reports painstaking. No grieving mother could ever find fault with Levi's cursive. Erwin himself wrote too quickly, phrases of mourning pouring fluidly from his pen. That he always meant them when he wrote them was cold comfort at best. 

"How many people have died under my command, do you think?" he asked. He sounded plaintive, to his own annoyance. It was hardly a voice to inspire confidence in his leadership. 

"A lot, shit," said Levi. Erwin winced almost imperceptibly, even though it was ludicrous that Levi's bluntness should hurt. "Why?" 

"I suppose I was thinking that I'd never killed anyone," said Erwin. "And that's not true, of course." 

Levi's surprise was very funny, if one had a really awful sense of humour. "Are you kidding?" 

"Never with my own hands," Erwin said, by way of explanation. It was a bizarre sort of innocence still to have. 

"It's not that hard," Levi said. Naturally, Erwin had assumed – but it was different, hearing him say it. "It takes guts, I guess." 

"That wasn't the first word that sprang to mind," Erwin said wryly. 

"Fuck, that's not it," Levi said. He put down his pen, which was leaking onto his fingers. He didn't seem to notice. "I meant more like, I don't know, will." 

Erwin leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, but Levi needed no encouragement. He was talking in fits and starts, like a child stuttering over the times tables. 

"Most people, they, shit, they don't _want_ to kill other people. I mean, they don't even think about it. Fuck, even I don't. But I always can. And most of the time, people don't even really fight hard, like they think it's going to end in a broken nose or some shit. Or if they do get close to winning, they, they lose because they back off and try and run and I'm there to kill them. The will to actually stick it in is, like, sixty per cent of the whole thing." 

"And the other forty?" Erwin asked. Levi shrugged, not looking at him. 

"That's just training and stuff." 

He was rubbing at his fingers now, trying to wear away some of the ink stains. Erwin said, "Was it all one-sided?" 

"What? Oh, you mean, was it just me doing hits or whatever? No, you'd get petty little shits who'd try and do me over, get themselves a reputation." Levi licked his thumb in an attempt to get the ink to smear. "I never got in a fight I couldn't finish." 

_Except one._ Erwin kept his mouth shut. He had no intention of making Levi feel worse than he already did. 

What he did say, in the end, was: "Thank you for surviving." 

"Eh?" Levi looked at him for the first time since the conversation began, startled. 

"I, for one, am glad you survived," he clarified. It was not quite what he meant, but it was close enough that it gave him relief without being wholly satisfying. 

"Hah," said Levi. "You better be, fucker. You'd be up shit creek without me." 

Erwin smiled and bent his head to his work again. It was perfectly true. 

He finished his letter to Mike ( _we've successfully planted in nearly all of the town's common land, but I fear it won't be enough for even the March refugees_ ) and stamped it shut with a wax seal. Levi blinked at him, a little offended. 

"That's unnecessary," he said. "I wouldn't read a letter to Mike." 

"Certainly not, but you won't be taking the next postbag to Chenzen," said Erwin. He set aside the letter for the wax to cool. Hopefully, the courier he chose would be equally trustworthy, but he disliked excessive risk. 

Levi eyed him shrewdly, settling back in his chair. "What d'you want me to do, then?" 

"Come with me to the capital," Erwin said. The expression that passed over Levi's face was lightning quick, a momentary sharpness that froze into stern immobility. 

"Expecting trouble, are you?" he asked. 

"Not at all," said Erwin mildly. "I only need to clear up some very minor matters." 

"Shit," said Levi. 


	4. Sarabande

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Erwin and Levi visit the capital, and this story briefly attempts to mutate into a romcom.

They set off an hour before dawn, although the journey was slow going in the dark. It was almost more hazardous, or would have been if they'd known the terrain less well. Rosenwald had been a busy town before the Wall fell, and the road to Trost was paved. Erwin's horse was sure-footed and calm, even when something crunched underfoot that should not have been there. His imagination overtook his common sense, telling him that it was bone. This was unlikely. They had made efforts to retrieve as many corpses as possible to be burned inside Rosenwald; anything else threatened morale. 

Erwin continued this internal argument – it needn't be _recent_ bone – until he couldn't stand himself any longer, and fixed his gaze on the ground ahead, illuminated only by the swaying light of his lantern. It was not until after the first streaks of light crossed the sky that he abandoned his lamp by the roadside. Levi followed suit, extinguishing his own carefully. 

"We'll ride hard now," said Erwin. "When we reach the crossroads, change horses." 

Levi nodded. "What's in the bag?" 

Erwin shifted the diplomatic bag that his current mount was burdened with, so that it was more secure. "Nothing we can't abandon, if it comes to it." 

"Understood," said Levi. He did not persist, as if content with whatever Erwin was willing to give him. That was an illusion, and a dangerous one, and Erwin elected to ignore it for both their sakes. 

He spurred his horse and they rode in silence for a good half an hour without a sign of Titan movements. The land fell away behind them as they went, trampling the wet dirt under their hooves. In peacetime – before Wall Maria fell – there would have been violets lining the road. Even in the mellow, deceptive dawn light it looked like a burned-out wasteland. 

In January, there had been trees near the road, too. They were all gone now, chopped down and the stumps uprooted. Not a single twig had been left; it had all been used for fires. Funeral pyres, mostly. The winter had been comparatively kind – that passed for luck, Erwin decided. He was used to making do. 

Eventually, Levi said: "Tracks heading south. It's alone." 

"They'll probably see it in Rosenwald about mid-morning," said Erwin. His mind ran over the troops they'd left behind: Guerin would co-ordinate the defence; would she have a strong finisher to back her up? "What's Nanaba like in the field?" 

"More of a hammer than a slicer," said Levi. "She'll do the job for Guerin." 

Erwin accepted this observation with a pensive incline of his head. He, Guerin and Levi worked well together, but it would be interesting to see how well Guerin's defensive strategies fared without the presence of as superb a soldier as Levi. He was deeply aware that his own would suffer; more than once he'd consigned an entire section to Levi's personal discretion and left him to it. 

The morning passed quickly, and the sun was high in the sky before they reached the gate at Trost at half past ten. There was a long, tense moment when Levi twisted in the saddle, scanning the treeline behind them. Erwin kept himself upright and facing forward, showing absolute confidence in how swiftly the Trost garrison could raise the gate. There was no point in inducing a panic over Titans which might not even be there, and besides, Levi was more than capable of dealing with any situation that might arise behind him. 

The gate groaned open. Erwin kicked his horse's flank, and he and Levi galloped inside without delay. It looked impressive; more importantly, the Titan emerged from the trees just as the portcullis clanged shut. 

"Where do we go from here?" Levi asked, slowing his Netty to a walk. 

"It's a straight shot to Mitras," said Erwin. "I'm sorry to say it's another three days' ride, barring accidents." 

"It seemed longer, going the other way. You'd think they could be bothered to come and see us here," Levi added viciously. "We're only dying for those fucking swine." 

"We are not dying," said Erwin sharply. 

Levi favoured him with that pale, unnerving gaze. Then he said, "No," and nudged his horse faster, ahead of Erwin, who let him. He watched Levi's back with an irrational amount of proprietary pride; Levi had disliked horses when they first met. He'd certainly never ridden one, but he had proven a natural at this as much as everything else. 

They stopped for an early lunch at the Survey headquarters, where Erwin persuaded Levi to leave their horses in favour of fresh ones. They would be another six hours on the road before they reached Neuerstein ("What's in Neuerstein?" asked Levi, his nose wrinkling. "A bed," Erwin told him) and there was no value in exhausting a perfectly good war horse in travel. 

"A better question," Erwin told him as they entered the village's outskirts that night, "would be what _isn't_ in Neuerstein?" 

"I'll bite," said Levi. "What isn't in Neuerstein?" 

"Anyone we know," said Erwin. 

Levi shot him a curious glance. "What?" 

"I need to talk to you privately, and we both know there's no such thing in Rosenwald," Erwin said. "We'll be sharing a room here, don't leave after dinner." 

"Where would I go?" asked Levi, genuinely bewildered. Given the cooling signs of life in the village, even an hour before sunset, Erwin had to concur. 

"It reminds me of a place I lived as a child," he said. "I suppose that should be comforting." 

"Why?" Levi said. He hesitated slightly, as if deciding whether or not to push his luck, and added, "I can't imagine you as a kid." 

"Of course you can," said Erwin, smiling. "You know those boys you see in Marebrook who go to church with their shorts neatly ironed and their hair parted properly? I didn't even have scraped knees." 

" _You_ were a good kid?" Levi didn't seem wholly incredulous; in fact, he seemed to be picturing Erwin very precisely. "Or did you just pretend to be?" 

Erwin threw back his head and laughed. "Your reading of my character is masterly, Levi. I suppose I did, at that. But I never told a lie." Logically, that must have been the crux of the matter. He didn't know to this day who the other boys had told about his idiotic bragging, but he could guess. All his guesses were people who had known him, and known that he wasn't a liar. 

"A real angel," said Levi. 

"No," said Erwin. "It just never occurred to me to be anything else. You can't be a truly good person without having resisted the temptation to do evil, I think." 

"I won't tell anyone," Levi said. "About the shorts, I mean." 

"That's all right," said Erwin. It was purely a matter of fact, after all. Some of it was on the public record. 

The Maria's Rest pub, renamed in a fit of patriotism by the landlady last year, was in the centre of the village. One of the barmaids, a smiling middle-aged woman, was drafted in to help them with their baggage. She balked when she saw them, staring at them with a bizarre, fixed eye, before shouldering their bags with ease and showing them upstairs. But she kept as far away from them as she could, two steps ahead and to the side. Erwin wondered why. 

The room itself was relatively clean, with a large double bed. Levi made to unpack their things, but Erwin motioned to him to stop. "There'll be time enough later. You need to eat." 

"I'm fine," Levi said. Erwin observed the paleness of his skin, and the darkness shadowing his eyes, and said: 

"Well, _I_ need to eat. You're welcome to join me." 

Dinner, as it turned out, was two unappetising faggots in thin gravy down in the bar. Levi, true to his word, was not hungry, and Erwin could hardly blame him, but he ate every single bite nonetheless with grim determination. Erwin followed suit. It was a minor improvement over the usual fare in Rosenwald, at least. 

"Are you planning to do anything in Mitras?" Erwin asked. 

"What do you mean?" Levi paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. 

"Visit old friends, that sort of thing." 

"Why?" Levi put his fork down with a clink. It was clear that he found the question insulting, and Erwin considered how best to soothe his ruffled feathers. 

"It would be very natural of you," he said. 

"Am I unnatural because I don't want to?" Levi enquired, still strumming with that note of tension. 

"Not at all. It would be more convenient to me if you didn't," said Erwin levelly. There was no getting round Levi. "But if you want to, I'll live with it." 

He pondered and discarded several possibilities in the moment of silence following his words. Feigning ignorance of Levi's activities in the Underground would only make him look like a fool; implying that Levi was carrying out a commission for him could potentially embroil him in something more complex than he cared for; and he had no interest in accompanying him unless it involved Corps business. It would only appear as if Levi needed a babysitter or, worse, a gaoler. 

"I'm not going," said Levi. "Since you ask." He picked up his fork again and resumed eating. 

"As you please," said Erwin, and ignored Levi's scoff. "Is there anything else you want to do in Mitras while we're there?" 

"Yeah," said Levi. He chewed a bit of gristle, contemplating. "I want to go to a chandler. A good one." 

"There's a very famous one on Rat Lane," said Erwin. "I'll take you." 

"I know where Rat Lane is, Erwin," said Levi, faintly amused. Erwin felt the blood rise to his cheeks, although he knew he didn't flush easily. "But that'd be nice, sure." 

"What is it you're hoping to find?" Erwin asked, piling up their plates as Levi finally pushed his away. 

"Soap," said Levi. "The best stuff. They put salt in it." 

"I know," said Erwin, trying not to smile. It was Levi's turn to colour slightly. 

They went upstairs, and when Levi closed the door behind them he moved to lock it. 

"Not yet," said Erwin. Levi nodded, and remained within reach of the doorknob. 

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked. 

"This." Erwin drew a letter from the diplomatic bag and held it up between thumb and forefinger. "Captain Jarrow has written his first missive." 

"Shit." Levi frowned. "He waited this long? Why?" 

"It's not as if there's a regular postbag from Rosenwald to Trost," said Erwin lightly. "And you've been very good about keeping any official couriers well away from him." 

"You could have told me that's what I was doing," Levi grumbled. He abandoned his squat by the door and sprawled out over the floorboards, his strong thighs wide apart. 

"I hardly needed to," said Erwin, distracted by the graceful movement of his shoulders as Levi rolled a kink out of his neck. "In any case, he put it in the diplomatic bag – no one will tamper with that." 

"What does it say?" Levi asked. 

"Levi," Erwin said, dark with disappointment. He saw Levi fight the urge to flinch, and he saw him raise his chin defiantly instead. "You wouldn't understand. This letter isn't really sealed, you know – there's no wax on it, only a light glue. That's because Captain Jarrow is an officer and a gentleman, and so am I. He knows I wouldn't read one of his private letters." 

"So give it to me," said Levi, holding out his hand. His pale eyes were furious. "Let me do your dirty work, bastard." 

"That's not how you play the game, Levi," said Erwin sadly. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Levi demanded, and Erwin could no longer resist the laughter that bubbled up in his throat. 

"Yes," he said. "I am fucking kidding you, Levi. There's no point in you reading this letter; I wrote it." 

Levi stopped, thwarted of a target for his temper. "When?" 

"Before we left." Erwin slid the letter back into the diplomatic bag. "I burned the original letter in my fireplace. This is a forgery." He'd initially planned to steam it open on the road, but luckily it had occurred to him that this would prove more of a hassle than anything else. In his office, he was at leisure to provide himself with boiling water and plenty of Jarrow's reports to use as reference material. 

"What did the original say?" Levi asked. He propped his chin on the palm of his hand, listening. Erwin was one of the privileged few whom Levi forgave instantly and for nearly anything. 

"It contained several items rather injurious to both your career and mine," said Erwin dryly. "I might have let it pass anyway, but it was also more optimistic in tone than I'd like. I had an idea of keeping him in constant terror of his life – not from us, you gather, but from the Titans – but, frankly, it was logistically difficult." 

"I could've done it," said Levi. "Stick him out on his own in the vanguard, rescue him at the last minute – "

"I don't doubt you, but it would be too troublesome," said Erwin. "I assure you, learning to forge his handwriting was much easier." 

"So what, we mosey on up to his mother and hand it over?" Levi grimaced. "Won't she notice any differences?" 

"I shouldn't think so," said Erwin. Jarrow Place was only a stone's throw from the military police barracks in Mitras; Jarrow and his mother had lived cheek-by-jowl for years. When was the last time he'd ever had cause to write her a letter? And from now on, she'd only have Erwin's forgeries to compare them with. "Trust me, Levi." 

"All right," said Levi. Erwin's eyebrows quirked at this easy acquiescence, and Levi shrugged. "You've got me this far." 

There was a faint pain in Erwin's chest. He said, unbidden and unplanned, "I don't deserve you." 

"Tch," said Levi, looking away. "I'm pretty sure you do." 

It was the opposite of a compliment, but Erwin felt his mouth curve anyway. To dispel the feeling, he inclined his head towards the door. Levi assented silently, rolling effortlessly onto his knees and thence to his feet. He took a single step towards the door and wrenched it open, darting through. 

"No one," he reported after a brief pause. 

Erwin had checked the window when they got here; no one could have climbed the wall outside without gear, and gear they would have heard. He sighed, and sat back down on the bed. 

"That's probably all right, then," he said. "You can lock the door now." 

Levi obeyed him and came back to the bed, tugging off his cravat. They undressed in silence, stripping down to long undershirts. 

"Do you want the left-hand side or the right?" Erwin asked, but Levi waved him off. They were neither of them particularly precious. 

They crawled into bed together, and from the soft groan Levi let out when he touched the mattress, Erwin knew the riding must have taken its toll on him. It took a great deal to make him stiff and sore. 

"We can hire a gig in Ehrmich," he said. 

Levi snorted. "What good will it do us at that point? Save your money, Erwin." 

It could do them a great deal of good, Erwin thought; not least because riding into Mitras on horseback was the province of junior officers and below. But it occurred to him that he did not actually care about that, and preferred horseback himself, and he weighed these two concerns in his mind. 

Levi shifted against him, the pressure of his slender, sturdy thigh bringing Erwin thoroughly back to the here-and-now. "Stop thinking, you idiot." 

"That strikes me as a contradiction in terms," Erwin said. He found that he enjoyed talking like this, lying here in the dark; it reminded him of his boyhood, whispering to Nile and Mike in the Training Corps barracks. In the dark, there were no distractions from his own mind. 

"Whatever. Go to sleep." 

"Yes, sir," Erwin murmured. With Levi's warmth barely a thought away, it seemed easier to let his body remind him he was tired after all. 

  


* * *

  


"Good morning!" said Commander Pixis, cheery and unrestrained. Into the rum already, Levi thought. "You've made good time. I was expecting you mid-afternoon." 

Levi, who had rolled out of bed while it was still dark outside, gave him a murderous look. Erwin's hand closed over his shoulder, which he found he resented. Did Erwin think he was that stupid? 

"We'd appreciate an early lunch, if there's one available," said Erwin, pushing a stray hair back off his forehead, as if abashed by the implied approval. He wasn't. "We only had sandwiches on the road." 

"Can't be done," said Pixis, shoving his hands into his pockets, and eyeing them with sardonic amusement. "You stink like hell." 

Levi shot him a venomous glare and tried to sniff his own armpit surreptitiously. Pixis let out an explosive snort. "We're fine, old man." 

"You're not," Pixis said bluntly. "My God, I don't know what it is, but you'll want a bath before you sit down to anything." 

"We'd certainly appreciate that," said Erwin, stepping in smoothly before Levi could snarl back. "Would you be so good as to order fresh clothes to be laid out for us? I fear our uniforms won't be up to standard either, after so long travelling." 

"Consider my house a home away from home," said Pixis agreeably. They followed him up the limestone steps through the front door into a house in which Levi was immediately uncomfortable. It was bright and roomy, with large leadlight windows that threw patterned shadows onto the polished floors. Pixis must have a legion of servants, Levi thought, and felt uneasy that he could detect none of them. 

The old man detained them in the hallway, chatting, and so when Levi entered the bathroom the tub was already full of steaming water. He scrubbed furiously, still seething over the crack about his stench. When he exited he marched straight over to his old clothes, ignoring the new – and recoiled violently. The rank, sickening odour that rose from them made the gorge rise in his throat. They reeked of Titan vomit and human faeces, of blood, smoke, and three days of sweat. How had he not _noticed_? 

_Fuck. You must be able to smell Rosenwald a mile away._

Levi put on the new clothes. 

"Who would you advise me to see, while I'm here?" Erwin said over a light luncheon of boiled quails, goose-liver pâté, crusty bread still warm from the oven, thick yellow butter, and, for those with a sweet tooth, blackberry jam and honey. Pixis had apologised for the mean fare. Levi had spent the whole journey with his stomach in a constant state of twisting knots; now, for the first time, he realised he was starving. 

"That depends very much on what you want," said Pixis. His shrewd eyes rested on Erwin's calm, serious face, and then he pushed forward the dish of pâté. "Try it, Erwin, you'll like it." 

Erwin had dutifully helped himself to bread, but the quail lay untouched on his plate. "Food and medical supplies, firstly, of course. The second most important concern is the wagon train bringing each new wave of refugees – it's too heavy, it can't be manoeuvred easily enough." 

"These seem to be mutually exclusive problems," said Pixis. "Is it more supplies you want, or fewer?" 

"I want a more radical solution," said Erwin. "It's Blue Valley who make the wagons, isn't it? Who's the owner now, Ethel Mason?" 

Pixis shook his head. "She went down after the fall of Wall Maria, poor soul," he said. "Sedition and heresy. The whole company was rolled up and taken over by Helga Frederiksen." 

Erwin was pencilling her name on his clean cuff. "I'll take her direction, if you have it." 

"You're not going to ask me how to get this entire sorry expedition recalled?" Pixis asked, his mouth turned up in something almost like a smile. Levi paused over a mouthful of bread and jam before setting it down on the table, ready to move if Erwin gave the sign. 

"I said I would value your advice," said Erwin softly. 

There was a very quiet moment, which stretched out. Erwin and Pixis were watching one another, each waiting for the other to crack and show a glimmer of honesty. Levi was watching Erwin. He had not put down his knife. 

"Don't try," said Pixis abruptly, breaking the silence. Levi supposed that he cared less. "I like you, Erwin, I really do. You and your boy here entertain an old man. But nobody will ever like you that much." 

"I am desolated to hear it," Erwin said. His expression was still calm and serious, and utterly flat behind the eyes. "But I am told that it's one's heart that counts." 

"Don't give me that tosh," said Pixis. 

"You give that speech to children," said Erwin. "Are you so surprised that some of them believe you?" 

"Some of them do," said Pixis acidly. "They usually go into the Survey Corps." 

"Just so," said Erwin. He lifted his shoulders as if to say, _what can you do?_

"The government likes to make a sacrificial lamb out of an officer every now and then – to encourage the others," Pixis said. "Your number's up, Commander. Take it on the chin." 

"Is that what you did?" Erwin asked. 

Pixis actually laughed, loud and raucous. "It never happened to me! I'm a very old man, Erwin. You don't get to be as old as I am without being cautious." 

Levi picked up his bread and jam again as if he'd never stopped eating, certain by the minute easing of Erwin's expression that a brutal defence would not be required. "Who would we go to if we wanted a slowdown in the number of refugees?" 

Pixis turned to him, as easy as if he'd never forgotten Levi was there. "The King." 

"Realistically," Erwin said, with a quick look at Levi. 

"Mm," said Pixis. " _Coppélia_ is playing at the Royal Opera House tonight. My little bird of paradise is in the corps de ballet – come and give her a clap, my dear fellow. And don't worry about clothes – I'll have levee dress sent up to your rooms." 

"You're too kind," said Erwin. "May I use your study to write a letter?" 

Pixis waved him off and the two of them adjourned to his study, which was a mess. Empty glasses littered the desk, which was drowning in documents and broken pens. A moment's excavation discovered the inkwell, half-full, and Erwin settled down to write. While he worked, Levi wandered over to the bookshelves. They mostly consisted of over-stuffed binders full of paperwork going back the last five years, but there were one or two books: a hefty work on Titan battle strategy, and a filthy novel which had been banned speedily upon release four years ago, and both the author and publisher prosecuted. One of Levi's last jobs before taking up with Lobov had been smuggling a crate of copies out of the capital. Isabel had succumbed to curiosity and broken open the lid, whereupon she'd swiped one for posterity. 

They'd had a lot of fun with that book. 

"What's your opinion of Commander Pixis?" Erwin asked suddenly, looking up from his letter. 

Levi replaced the novel but he stayed facing the bookcase, trying to swallow past the thickness in his throat. "He seems all right." 

"He's been a relatively solid ally to the Corps down the years," said Erwin, putting down his pen. 

"But not to you," Levi guessed, finally secure enough to turn around. 

"My interests have always been synonymous with those of the Corps," Erwin said, gently reproving. Levi rolled his eyes. "Our views have differed, of course. But never so much as now." 

"Do you think he'll inform on you?" asked Levi, thinking it sensible to cut to the chase. They could climb out of this window and down the trellis and be through the capital gates within twenty minutes. 

"Only if he's asked _very_ persuasively," said Erwin, who seemed to think that was as solid a guarantee as it got. 

"What about the dancer?" Levi perched on the edge of the armchair, wary of sinking in deeper. Fuck knew what was down there. "He might tell _her_." 

"Pixis is a man who likes to know secrets, but he's neither a gossip nor a fool," said Erwin. He smiled. "It's an angle worth considering, nonetheless." 

Levi shrugged, rather pleased that he'd come up with something Erwin hadn't. "I thought he was supposed to be happily married, anyway." 

"He is," said Erwin. "I believe his wife lives in Trost most of the time. I am told they are both very happy." 

"That's messed up." He toed at the wooden leg of the desk. He'd never met that many married people, but he had a vague idea that it involved actually wanting to be around each other. "Why not just cut bait and start over?" 

"I daresay they don't want to," said Erwin. He took up his pen again, but hesitated before starting to write. He was oddly pensive. "I suppose love always looks a little strange to outsiders." 

They went up to dress for the ballet at four o'clock. This was bizarre to Levi, who had never taken more than fifteen minutes at the outside, including when he was still learning to tie a cravat. 

"Pixis offered us the services of his valet," Erwin said, holding the door of Levi's room open for him. "I thought it might be better if I declined." 

"I don't need a fucking valet," said Levi, brushing past him. "The ballet doesn't even start until half past sev – what the _fuck_ is wrong with these breeches?" 

Most of the uniform was laid out on the bed: it consisted of a deep blue coat of superfine wool that was choked in brand-new gold braid, with a linen shirt of pure, unmarked white. New boots had been provided; they gleamed black in the sunlight. There was even fresh underwear, better than anything Levi had ever seen, never mind worn. 

The white pantaloons were being soaked in a bowl in front of him. The maid, dressed neatly in a mobcap and apron, lifted them half out of the water and then, as they dripped, shook her head and doused them again. 

"Ah," said Erwin. "I see His Majesty has redesigned the uniforms since I was last here." 

His tone was full of amusement. Levi stared at him in dismay. 

"How am I supposed to wear wet pantaloons? I'll catch cold." 

"The idea is that you put them on wet and as they dry they shrink to fit," said Erwin, still obviously suppressing laughter. "It's fashionable, isn't it?" 

"Yes, sir," said the maid. 

"I'm not going to be able to even pull those on," Levi said. 

"I'm sure you will try your very best," said Erwin. Levi could hear the shade of an order in his voice and decided that he loathed him. He stalked over to the bowl and snatched the buckskin pantaloons from the maid's hands – he could hear Erwin thanking her as she darted out of the room – and began to unbutton his fly. 

"I wouldn't," said Erwin. He was leaning against the bedpost, as relaxed as Levi had seen him since this whole – entire – monstrous thing had started. The slight crease between his eyebrows had completely vanished, and even his smile seemed more real. "You'll want to relieve yourself beforehand." 

"You're joking," said Levi in flat disbelief. 

"I also wouldn't eat or drink anything else tonight if you can possibly avoid it," Erwin went on, his easy superiority beginning to rankle. "Sitting down without splitting them will be difficult enough as it is." 

"You're going to be wearing them, too," said Levi with unfiltered malice. 

Erwin sighed as if he were facing a particularly tiresome chess opponent. "It's a trial I'm sure I can endure. You do realise, Levi, that we'll have to cut those pantaloons off you?" 

Levi dropped them back into the bowl of water with a loud splash. "Why?" 

"That's part of their appeal," Erwin said. "The shrinkage leaves them so tight that they can't be peeled off as one normally would." He regarded the bowl with an expression Levi recognised as aggressively blank. "Naturally, to be fashionable is especially expensive in times of hardship." 

"And I thought it was the gold braid you didn't like," Levi said. 

"Oh, that's almost paltry by comparison," said Erwin, mildly surprised. "They usually take it off older uniforms." 

"They didn't take this shit off any old coat." Levi picked up the blue superfine and held it out. "Look. It's too clean." 

"You're quite right," Erwin said. The slight frown was back with a vengeance, and Levi stifled a flash of regret. "How depressing." 

"What did you expect? You said it yourself." 

"I suppose I did." Erwin detached himself from the bedpost with a dismissive exhalation. "Will you require assistance with the pantaloons, Levi?" 

"No," Levi said much too quickly, smothering the image of Erwin smoothing the clinging buckskin over his backside. "Just worry about yourself, idiot." 

"I'll see you downstairs at six o'clock, then," said Erwin, turning to leave. "Take your time, and try to limit the amount of weaponry you strap on. It's a ballet, not a bar brawl." 

In the event, it was Erwin who was late. Levi stood in front of the fireplace in Pixis's drawing room, feeling the squeeze of the white buckskin as it dried. He'd worn buckskin before, mostly on long-haul expeditions, but never this close-fitting. He was horribly aware of the skin-tight outline of his thighs and groin; worse, he was horribly aware of the skin-tight outline of Pixis's thighs and groin as he stood across the mantel from him. 

"What's keeping that bastard?" he said. "I'll go and find him." 

Without waiting for a reply, he made his way up the stairs to Erwin's room. He couldn't stride or walk too fast for fear of splitting the pantaloons, and by the time Levi knocked on Erwin's door he was thoroughly in a temper. 

"Erwin!" he snapped. "Open up!" 

The door creaked open and Levi barged in past an irritated Erwin. There were four neck-cloths lying discarded on the dresser, and Levi deduced the situation at a glance. 

" _That's_ what's making you take so long?" he demanded, whirling on him. "Why didn't you just call for – "

He broke off abruptly, distracted. Aside from the cravat, which must come standard with levee dress, Erwin was entirely ready. His breeches had clearly dried. Levi took in the sight of him with some confusion: his hair was pushed back as usual; the coat fitted him well, making him look broader in the shoulders and narrower at the waist; and as Levi's gaze trailed downwards he could see the long, thick ridge of Erwin's cock sharply defined against his lower abdomen. 

"Levi?" asked Erwin. Levi jerked back, even though he must have been at least two metres away. 

"You should wear that to meet with sponsors all the time," he said, his voice admirably sarcastic and not at all hoarse. 

"I'm afraid it would seem like I was promising things I had no intention of delivering," Erwin said. There was a self-conscious pause, the air in the room seeming to thicken. "You look very nice, Levi." 

"Yeah, well," said Levi, twitching like a testy horse trying to swat a fly. "I'm the best you'll get. Old man Pixis is downstairs wearing the same thing." 

"I'm sure it can't be that bad," said Erwin, smiling. "Pixis is a fine figure of a man." 

"You're the worst person I've ever met," Levi said. 

"At this point, I'd be devastated if you said anything else." Erwin touched his hair in the mirror one more time, seeming to contemplate more than just his reflection. "Levi, will you – "

" _Yes_ ," said Levi, aggravated at the thought of Erwin trying again to tie a cravat in any kind of knot worth having. He flicked one of the unsullied from the neat pile and spread the large snowy cloth out between his hands. "Bend down, you fucking Titan." 

Erwin obeyed, and Levi wrapped it around his throat four or five times, round and round and round. It occurred to him briefly as he evened out the ends of the cloth that it would take no effort at all to keep pulling. He could slowly, quietly choke Erwin before either of them really understood what was happening. 

Erwin was utterly still under his hands. When Levi looked into his face, he found only an expression of cool curiosity. He wondered if Erwin would really let him do it; if Erwin would stand there in perfect compliance until shortness of breath forced him to his knees. 

He tugged gently at the ends of the cravat, overwhelmed by a sudden flood of affection that he could not express, and didn't want to. It would probably be embarrassing. He crossed the lengthy ties and pulled the top layer through to form a beautiful waterfall knot. 

"There," he said, tucking it into the collar of the coat. "You should've left it to me from the start." 

"I'll bear that in mind for next time," said Erwin. "I appreciate it." 

"We should go downstairs or we'll be late," Levi said, stepping back. 

"Just so." Erwin brushed away an imaginary piece of lint on his coat. "One more thing, Levi. I want you to pay close attention tonight. I think you'll find it very instructive." 

Levi pondered this during the carriage ride to the Opera House. He was unsure of what enlightenment, if any, a ballet could provide. Did Erwin want him to keep an eye on Pixis's mistress? It wouldn't be too difficult to persuade the old man to point her out. 

Pixis's heavy landau rolled to a stop outside a grand building which Levi knew for a fact had not existed when he'd left the city two years ago. It was impressive, if you liked that sort of thing: lots of complicated curlicues and cherubs congregating on all the corners. He didn't bother waiting for the driver to come round to the door, but opened it himself. All around them were carriages: ladies being lifted down by footmen; gentlemen waiting for them, already bored, with their arms crooked at the elbow. _What a waste of time for everyone_. There was some kind of weird, ritualistic aspect to it all. Levi waited until Erwin had stepped down from the landau before proffering his arm. 

"Thank you, Levi," said Erwin, his eyes bright with private mirth. They went through the huge double doors (inlaid with gilt, not gold, noted Levi with a professional eye) arm-in-arm, walking in step. He allowed himself to imagine for a moment that they were marching into battle side by side. 

"Shocking!" declared a woman behind them. Levi's head snapped around, but she seemed completely absorbed in her companion. "To ruin his own mother's birthday party like that! My mama would have cut me off without a shilling." 

Levi returned his attention to the stairs ahead of him only when Erwin squeezed his arm warmly. 

"Up here," he said. "Pixis's box is the third door on the left." 

This was not a private party, as it turned out: Pixis's idea of an intimate evening involved three or four investors – "angels", Erwin called them, with a touch of irony – who they had to sit and hobnob with for a whole half hour before the curtain went up. One of the women sat too close to Levi for comfort, the midnight blue silk of her expansive skirts drowning the white buckskin of his thigh. 

"Darling," the other woman said, nodding at her dress. "Still in mourning? How tragic." 

"Yes, well, it was Papa, you know, and it can't be helped," said the woman in midnight blue. Levi observed that even the handkerchief she produced from her reticule was trimmed with dark lace. "He was so devoted to his mines! I really feel I must help you get them back, Commander," she added to Erwin, who glanced up from his conversation with Pixis. 

"That is a major concern of the expedition, Lady Almira," he said. "The sharp downturn in the gold supply has been devastating." Levi glanced up to share the joke about the gold braid, and saw Erwin's swift glance down the contours of her sober dress. He resisted the urge to sneer. Of all the times for Erwin's dick to wake up. "And we'll do our best to recover your father's body." 

"Oh, don't worry about that," she assured him immediately. "We've already had the memorial service. And really, it's fitting in a way – Papa always did want to return to the earth." 

Levi, who could respect truly bare-faced bullshit, silently offered her his opera glasses. She would've done well down in the Underground. 

"How sweet!" she exclaimed. Her eyes fell on his breeches and widened a little. Levi fought down the desire to cross his legs. "You're Captain Levi the Titan-Killer, aren't you?" 

"Yes," he said. 

"Have you killed many Titans?" 

"Yes," he said. 

"Do you remember all your kills?" 

"No," he said, somewhat amazed by the idea that he might. 

"Captain Levi is notoriously shy in company," said Erwin, sounding amused again. Levi darted a filthy look at him from beneath his eyebrows. He wasn't mistaken. Erwin was throwing him to the wolves. "You've done splendidly to bring him so much out of his shell." 

"I do so dislike young bucks," Lady Almira confided, with the weary maturity of twenty-two. "Do you know Amalric at all, Captain Levi? I hear he was assigned to the expedition." 

Amalric? Levi chewed this one over for a second. "Jarrow?" 

"Yes, so dull, isn't he? All he thinks of is cock-fighting and faro." Levi found himself warming to her. "His mama says this expedition will be the making of him." 

Levi hesitated, torn between fishing for more information on the spy and ducking the conversation entirely. His dilemma was solved by the curtain finally – finally! – rising. 

"Why's it so late?" one of the angels muttered. 

"Someone was pestering the dancers backstage," said Pixis, a note of menace in his voice. 

"No," said Erwin quietly. "Look. The box opposite." 

Levi looked: there were three men just taking their seats. One sat first, lowering himself gingerly onto the velvet-covered bench as if uncertain it was good enough for his arse. The second eased himself down with an audible sigh: he was a plump man of average height, with black hair and eyes. He was the sort of man they invented the word "squat" for. You couldn't see him without a pressing sense that there was something missing in his physique or stature, some kind of absence of presence. The third remained standing until the first motioned impatiently for him to sit. He did so, giving the indelible impression that he was acquiescing to a wildly unreasonable request. 

"The King was late," said Erwin in his ear. Levi tried not to jump; mortifyingly, the blood rushed to his nearly-exposed groin. Erwin was overshadowing him, his arm slung over the back of the seat as if they were engaging in a confidential chat. 

"They held up the performance for that?" he muttered. 

"Indeed," said Erwin, his breath a soft rush of air against Levi's sensitised skin. "And he'll probably leave at the interval." 

"He's so rag-mannered," said Lady Almira, folding her handkerchief into nervous squares. "All his coterie are." 

"Not one of them yourself?" Levi said, his sarcasm unambiguous. 

"I'm a woman of business," she said, not seeming to take it amiss. "I don't have time for nasty games." 

"You must think I'm a greenhorn, Erwin," said Pixis, slapping him on the back. "You'll get your audience. Now, shut up and watch the ballet, dear fellow. My little girl's in the second row of the corps de ballet. Watch her and see if she'll be a star." 

"Your taste is impeccable, Commander," said Erwin gallantly. "Already her performance has me rapt." 

"They haven't even come on yet," said Pixis, not one whit displeased. Like a lot of people who claimed to be blunt and honest, he enjoyed total crap when it was presented with a smile. 

"Her aura is palpable even at this distance," Erwin said, and, with unqualified sincerity, added: "I have no doubt at all of her future stardom." 

"You talk so much shit your eyes should be brown," said Levi. Beside him, Lady Almira stifled a sudden snorted giggle. 

"I am lucky to have you to keep me honest, Levi," Erwin said. He tilted his programme towards him. "Do you know the story of _Coppélia_?" 

Levi did not. Erwin murmured it into his ear while he watched the dancers spill across the stage, so that all he could hear was Erwin's voice beneath the music as the overture rang out. As they dimmed the forgiving gaslights of the auditorium in favour of the cold limelight on the stage, he thought of how it would have been better to come here in a bloc and fill out the box themselves: him and Erwin and Hange and Mike sinking a bottle of brandy together. Anyone else who wanted to come could pay the toll, a bottle for a seat. _Isabel would have loved this_. 

To distract himself from his melancholy thoughts, he stared hard at the stage. All of the ballerinas were wearing snowy white tutus beneath colourful aprons; it must have cost a fortune to bleach them anew after every performance. Levi, during his tenure as squad leader, had ruled the laundry with an iron fist and knew intimately how easily white stained. He found Pixis's mistress easily enough: she was the one who was usually slightly too late on the beat, whose smile was slightly too strained. Levi understood why she'd plumped for a goaty old man like Pixis to sponsor her career. She wouldn't be the only one. 

He retrieved his opera glasses from Lady Almira, who was lost in thought and didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything onstage, and trained them more closely on the performers. The woman playing Swanhilda, the heroine, was much more interesting to watch. She must have been what Erwin meant by _instructive_. She made a leap so high that Levi scanned her for signs of gear, and landed very softly on the unforgiving boards of the stage. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out how she'd managed it. Pixis's girl was stomping around like a bull. Of even greater appeal was the long, smooth line of her arched back as she did some kind of bend, balanced gracefully on the toes of one foot. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Erwin asked. 

Levi, who was, and who hated being interrupted when in deep concentration, knocked their knees together hard. 

"Franz is an idiot," he said. "Anyone can tell Coppélia's just a doll. Why the fuck does Swanhilda like him so much?" 

"Perhaps he has other virtues," Erwin suggested. 

"Stupidity's pretty unattractive," said Levi. He could feel his ears heating up, which meant that Erwin was giving him that strange, fond look that never went anywhere. 

"I agree," Erwin said. 

The first act ended with the hero Franz climbing up to the doll Coppélia's balcony to declare his love for her and the curtain fell, blanketing sound from the stage. Levi leaned back from the rail as the lights went up, thinking about the athleticism of the dancers. He could see why Erwin hadn't demurred at the idea of coming here tonight. You could incorporate gear quite neatly into some of those moves. 

"The King is rising," said Lady Almira in a hushed whisper. All around them there was a susurrus of rustling clothes as everyone rose with him: including her, including Erwin and, when Erwin touched his shoulder, Levi. "He's coming _here_?" 

The third man from the King's box, who seemed to be some kind of equerry, entered their box without knocking. Levi wasn't trained in etiquette or anything, but he was pretty sure that was rude everywhere. "His Majesty wishes to meet with Commander Erwin," he said. 

"Of course," said Erwin, bowing slightly. "I'll come to him immediately." 

"That will not be necessary," said the equerry. "The King feels no need to stand on ceremony with one of his generals; he will come to you. The presence of your companions, however, is neither requested nor required." 

"As it may please the King," said Lady Almira. Her colour was up, and she scurried out of the box with a scant curtsey. The other investors trailed after her, until only Levi, Erwin and Pixis remained. 

"Your batman, also, will not be required," said the equerry, his lip curling. 

"Not by the King," said Erwin in his pleasant way. He was wearing the face Levi disliked the most on him: a cool, untouchable mask that gave every impression of smiling without any real hint of it. "Unfortunately, I very much need my aide-de-camp." 

Levi shifted his weight to press against Erwin's arm, trying to look as much like a senior adjutant as possible. The equerry gave him a once-over of pure repugnance. The stink of the Sina sewers never scrubbed off, even with a wire brush. Levi smiled, close-lipped. 

"Very well," said the equerry, obviously unwilling to push it further. He opened the box door again, and said in a clear, plummy voice that was noticeably different from the way he'd been talking to them: "His Majesty King Fritz, accompanied by Lord Reiss and Commander-in-Chief Darius Zackley!" 

_Zackley_? Levi exchanged a speaking look with Erwin, but no more. As the King entered the box, he, Erwin and Pixis saluted properly, but his mind was racing. When had Zackley arrived? What did he want? What had Pixis _said_? 

"We are honoured by your presence," said Erwin. He was standing very straight, his shoulders squared. Levi couldn't take his eyes off him. 

"Never mind all that." Zackley flicked a dismissive hand at him. "We're here to talk business. What do you need?" 

The King drifted to the edge of the box by the rail, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. They couldn't sit down while he was standing, and Levi gritted his teeth as this fact apparently passed His Majesty by. He was _nothing_ , a thin grey ghost. Levi hadn't expected the King to be anything more than a man, but Erwin was just a man, too. _Pixis_ was just a man. 

"Perishable foods, mostly," said Erwin. "We started planting potatoes last week, but we can't begin to harvest those for another two months at least. We forage and hunt as much as we can, but I'm sure you can see the inherent difficulty there. Any party outside the walls must be accompanied by a strict ratio of two bodyguards for every ten people, and it's putting a lot of strain on our manpower." 

"I can certainly manage more troops," said Zackley. "I'm surprised you ask, Erwin. You seemed very upset about taking your soldiers outside the last time we spoke." 

"Ah, I was young and immature then," said Erwin. "Three months is a long time, outside the Walls." 

"Mmm, yes, you _have_ aged," said Zackley. Still no one sat down. Levi gave the King a hard glare, and plonked himself on the bench. 

Everyone turned to look at him, except Erwin. The King, apparently taking the hint, sat down, too, right next to Levi, which led to a flurry of musical chairs as they all tried to figure out what this meant in terms of precedence. 

"Regarding the supplies," said Zackley. "Lord Reiss is more familiar with the plight of the refugees than I am, to my sorrow." 

Lord Reiss, it transpired, was the second man from the royal box, the squat one. His forehead creased when Zackley motioned to him, harried. He seemed like a man who would like to brood over his wrongs, except that he was constantly interrupted by new problems. His voice, when he spoke, was soft and amiable; Levi's hackles went up instantly. 

"The trouble is," he said, "the trouble is, that your numbers haven't been as good as we'd hoped, Commander." 

"We've had losses of over ten thousand," Erwin said. Levi felt a jolt of surprise; it hadn't felt like that many. Most of them must die on the journey, he thought; inside the town walls, the losses were slow and debilitating, like water dripping on stone. "I recognise that that still leaves us with fifty thousand plus however many are still in the refugee camps – "

"Far too many," said Zackley. 

"But that doesn't mean we don't _need_ the supplies. I'm sure we would all be much happier if Rosenwald and Chenzen could become self-sustaining, but that's not feasible for another three months at the earliest." 

"I have no food to give you," said Lord Reiss, his smile fixed and at odds with his anxious frown. "We all suffer. The grain silos of Wall Rose stand empty." 

"Do they?" Erwin asked, his cold gaze never wavering. 

"What are you implying?" Lord Reiss was puffing himself up like an angry cat. 

"I am _saying_ that the bakeries of Mitras haven't noticed the lack," said Erwin. The stone wall of his face was immovable. "A dinner party in Reiss Square would feed a street in Rosenwald for a week. If we are all suffering, my lord, it would behove you to show it." 

"If people of our class show our pain, it would cause fear and panic among the lower orders," said Lord Reiss. His awful smile puckered, as if his mind were suddenly very far away. "Someone like you wouldn't understand, Commander." 

"I serve a better class of humanity, you mean?" said Erwin. His mask slipped for a moment, and Levi tensed, ready to spring for Reiss's throat. He could feel the knife strapped against his calf like the comforting touch of an old friend. _And Erwin didn't want me to bring it._

"You know nothing about who it is you serve," said Reiss. 

There was a dry little chuckle and Levi flicked his gaze over to Zackley, who was patting his belly. Levi suppressed a flash of visceral hatred. "We can never know what truly lies behind an ideal, Rod," he said. "Don't be so hard on poor Erwin. He's probably hungry. Anyone else would be making wild threats at this point." 

"There's no excuse for such behaviour," said Lord Reiss, still glaring at Erwin. "Going outside the Walls doesn't make him a ravening beast." 

"It's been a gruelling time for us all. That's my fault," said Zackley, taking off his glasses and giving them a good wipe. "I take full responsibility, Erwin. The method is inefficient and inartistic." 

"It would have been more humane to line them up in Reiss Square and shoot them," said Levi, the venom in his voice almost shocking himself. He'd thought he could get through this. He'd thought he could just not care. 

Zackley shook his head gently. "What a waste of ammunition," he said. 

"What do you want?" asked Lord Reiss, addressing Erwin. "The food out of my own larder?" 

"Come now, Rod," Zackley said. "Erwin's come here to solve problems, not to cause them. What can we do to help him? Better wagons? It'll hurt no one if we push the refugees out of the gate a bit quicker." 

"Aside from the obvious," said Erwin, regaining his iron self-control with an effort. Zackley laughed. 

"Well, quite." 

"We would appreciate a delay in the waves of refugees," said Erwin. "If only because we can't possibly support much more in the way of population." 

"Erwin, don't be slow," said Zackley, finally beginning to be irritated. "Your precious refugees starving is not a matter of concern." 

"There was once a philosopher, of sorts," said Lord Reiss. "He thought that when a population outstripped their resources, they would inevitably descend into bestial civil war." He looked so genuinely saddened and worried that Levi nearly burst out into hysterical, disbelieving laughter. "We would do anything to avoid that." 

"So you see," said Zackley, smiling in what Levi supposed was a grandfatherly way. "In a funny roundabout way, we are trying to save humanity. And you are our sword." 

Levi felt all the warmth drain from him; he saw Erwin give an infinitesimal flinch. _Don't_ , he prayed, with no idea of who he might be talking to, or what he didn't want them to do. _Don't._

He felt the knife against his calf, cool and reassuring. He wanted to tear it out and slash Reiss across his ugly, lying face; he wanted to gut Zackley until his intestines spilled out over the red, red carpet. _It wouldn't even be treason_. 

"I think that really settles it, don't you?" said Zackley. 

"I still need supplies," said Erwin, utterly intent on him. He was acting like he would with a recalcitrant quartermaster. "Whatever there is to spare." 

"Oh, go on, twist my arm," said Zackley with an exasperated grin. "I'll tell you what, you can have them right up to the Trost gate. Anything that happens after that is your problem, Erwin. I think that's fair." 

"I'll take it," said Erwin. 

"Of course you will," said Zackley. "Now, good grief, can't we enjoy the ballet? I hear Pixis's protégée is marvellous." 

Levi was still shaking as he leaned forward against the rail, the King beside him. The second act had long since started, and now an evil wizard was trying to use a human sacrifice to bring the doll Coppélia to life. He wasn't entirely sure why; it didn't seem to matter any more. 

"How are you enjoying the ballet?" asked the King. 

Levi turned his head towards him. He almost didn't understand the question. There had been a comparison nagging at him, and it came to him quite suddenly: the down-and-outs in the Underground. There'd been a lot of them, even though you had to put in some effort to be an underclass among the underclass. The one he was thinking of, Josef, had ambled drunkenly down the social scale long before Levi had ever met him and he'd had the same look as the King; a burned-out vagueness that evinced no interest in or enjoyment of the world around them. His question sounded like he'd learned it by rote. 

"I don't see the point," he said. "It's just a puppet. People only think it's real." 

"Too true, too true," said the King. He didn't seem to have really heard anything at all. 

  


* * *

  


The rattle of the carriage was getting on Erwin's nerves. He found himself agitated by it, by the relentless clatter and jolt of wheels on cobblestones. It was bad city planning, as much as anything else. If Erwin were in charge, he'd create a public works project to smooth all the roads for the effortless passage of vehicles. He could imagine it: the constant complaints about workmen, the endless filed injunctions against his ruination of a beautiful, ancient road. 

If Erwin were in charge – 

"Are the grain silos of Wall Rose really empty?" he asked Pixis, breaking the oppressive silence that filled the carriage. 

"I wouldn't like to depend on them," said Pixis frankly. "The south honestly has been picked clean, for the little that's worth to you." 

"Is it truly possible to feed the people of the – " He stumbled over _world_. "The Walls?" 

"Possible?" Pixis held out a hand, palm upwards. "That depends on what you believe about humanity." 

"So it is." 

"You _are_ idealistic, aren't you?" Pixis leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He was more serious than Erwin had ever seen him before. "I think that if we had allowed the situation to continue as it was for much longer, many people would have died in a deeply nasty civil war." 

"Is that more or less than will die now?" Erwin asked, holding his gaze. 

"Unfortunately," said Pixis, "that question is academic." 

After that, he huddled into the corner of the carriage and pretended to sleep. Levi offered no remarks, and Erwin had no desire to force another conversation. Even when they parted with Pixis at the front door, Erwin felt no relief, only a second wave of the restlessness that had afflicted him on the journey back. There was no reason for it; he had accomplished more or less what he had come here to do, and much more quickly than he had hoped. They could be on their way back to Rosenwald in less than three days. 

Levi, irritatingly, followed him into his bedchamber like an unhappy little shadow. Erwin shrugged off the coat of blue superfine and held back a swear word when he heard one of the seams in the armpit rip. He should have called for Pixis's valet. Since he had no intention of actually using Levi as a batman, there was no point in him being here. 

"Don't you need to cut those off?" Levi asked as Erwin tore at the buttons of his fly. He dipped his hand into the top of his boot and held out a wicked-looking clasp knife. 

"What?" It came to him. "No. I was only teasing. They just can't be worn again, they're too small to pull on." He forced them down his thighs and stepped out of them. Levi's eyes wandered down his body before he abruptly turned his back. It was ridiculous, Erwin thought. Levi hadn't even blinked throughout their journey, and he chose now to be prudish? His own voice sounded harsh in his ears. "I told you not to bring that knife." 

"I wanted it in case of attack," said Levi, curiously subdued. 

"Carrying arms in the presence of the King is treason in and of itself," said Erwin, his banked rage rising in his throat. "What did you think would happen, Levi? That one of us would be arrested at the theatre? What could a knife have possibly done to improve the situation?" 

He stripped down to his long shirt and stopped. The delicate linen was much too fine to sleep in; he dug out an older, coarser uniform shirt. It really did stink. Pulling it over his head, he left the ties of the collar hanging loose. His hands were shaking too much to knot it. He crossed over to the heavy old-fashioned oil lamp by the bed, lit by some conscientious servant, and doused the flame. 

"You're dismissed, Captain," he said, crawling into the bed. The darkness engulfed him, and still Levi did not move. "I'll see you in the morning." 

There was the scrape of leather on leather: Levi was finally, finally going to leave him alone. Then the mattress sank slightly under the weight of another person and deep in the darkness Levi's hand touched his knee. Erwin could feel the heat of his fingers even through the layers of sheets and blankets. It was strangely comforting. Erwin had a sudden memory of his father soothing him back to sleep after a nightmare, the gentle pressure a silent reminder that he wasn't alone in the world. 

"We're going to get more supplies," Levi said, almost inaudible. "We're going to get better wagons. That's what we came here for." 

"It's not enough," said Erwin. 

Levi's hand clenched briefly on his knee. He didn't say anything, and Erwin's heart twisted behind his ribcage. His throat hurt so badly that when he opened his mouth to speak, he found he could not form words. 

"I have no idea what I'm doing any more," he said eventually, hearing his voice wobble dangerously. It didn't sound like him at all. He lay on his back, and prayed that Levi wouldn't see or comprehend the burn of tears in his eyes. 

"If you don't know, what hope do the rest of us have?" Levi asked, very quiet and small. 

Erwin couldn't bring himself to answer. _No hope at all_. It was true, but he couldn't bear to say it to Levi, who had followed him without fear or favour, who had believed in him when nobody else understood what _saving humanity_ truly meant. 

"They want us all dead," said Levi. 

"To encourage the others," said Erwin, low. 

"Are we going to let them do this?" Levi asked. He was still pressing down on Erwin's leg, through a satin eiderdown, two blankets and a top sheet, like the story of the Princess and the Pea in reverse. He sounded as if he were ready to be reassured. 

"I don't know how to stop it," said Erwin, his voice hoarse. "I never planned for this." 

"Who would?" Levi shuffled closer, making the feather mattress dip further. Erwin welcomed it, as if the touch of another human being could break through the nightmarish unreality he seemed to be living in. "Why do they bury politicians five metres underground?" 

The unexpected change of subject was jarring. "What?" 

"Why do they bury politicians five metres underground?" Levi asked again, with audible patience. When Erwin made no reply, he sighed and answered his own question. "Because deep down, they're good people." 

The punchline, delivered in Levi's utterly flat monotone, startled Erwin so much that he let out an awkward, embarrassed laugh, and then suddenly he really was laughing, so hard that his shoulders shook and he was able to brush away the tears that had been threatening to fall. 

"Why don't rats eat politicians?" asked Levi, apparently bored and a little contemptuous of Erwin's mirth. Erwin was still trembling. He said: 

"I don't know." 

"Professional courtesy." 

Erwin put his hands over his face even though Levi couldn't really see him, his own mortification only making him laugh harder. 

"Typical," said Levi, disgusted. "I'm doing all the work. You tell one." 

"I don't know any," Erwin managed, trying to suppress giggles with his palm. 

"Of course you do." 

"I don't, I don't. All right." He rubbed his face, racking his brains. "What do you call ten dead politicians?" 

"A good start. Come on, you can do better than that." 

"I can't," said Erwin. He found Levi's hand in the darkness and clasped it. They sat there in the black of night, the only two people in the world, for a very long time. 


	5. The City on the Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin struggles to control his emotions in the wake of the last chapter, and Levi finds you can never really leave the city behind.

Erwin appeared to be his usual self in the morning. His uniform had been ferociously attacked by Pixis's laundress overnight, as had Levi's, and it now smelled faintly of lavender and camomile. The brown leather under one armpit was threatening to crack from overuse; the shirt beneath was clean but worn so thin it was almost translucent. 

"You should requisition a new jacket while we're here," said Levi over breakfast. Today it was four different kinds of sausage, one of them curried, spread out over a magnificent platter and accompanied by bread rolls and several jams. Levi suspected Pixis was holding back his larder out of deference to Erwin's delicate sensibilities. 

"Yes, Mama," said Erwin. He bit absently into a half-buttered roll and then abandoned it to languish on his plate. Levi filched it. Erwin was too preoccupied to care. "Did you want to visit the chandler's this morning? I can drop you off there on the way to Jarrow Place." 

Levi wavered, uncertain of whether he should allow Erwin out of his sight, but finally agreed. It was not until he was stepping down from Pixis's carriage an hour later that he said: "You should come in with me." 

"Should I?" said Erwin quizzically. 

"Yeah." Persuasion did not come naturally to Levi, but he gave it a try. "You know about soap and shit, and you need good candles if you're gonna keep working into the night." 

Erwin gave him one of his measuring looks, slow and meditative. Levi fought the urge to squirm, but then Erwin said: "I suppose I do, at that," and alighted without further argument. 

The chandler's was a large shop, with aisle after aisle of soaps and candles stacked high. Levi directed Erwin towards the stand of expensive beeswax candles, which were long and pale but gave off a beautiful clear light without the oily smoky crap you got from tallow or animal fat. He himself headed for the soaps. At a shop like this, there were hundreds of different kinds: scented and dyed, soaps for skin and for hair, all neatly wrapped up and stamped with the shop's logo. A year ago he would have recoiled at the prices; two years ago he'd've hurled a brick through the window and taken anything he wanted. This was probably domestication. 

He let his fingertips trail over the labels (lavender, rose, lily of the valley, sandalwood) until he came to the one he was looking for. The sharp, astringent odour of carbolic soap clung to his hands as he took it from the rack. 

"Carbolic soap, really?" Erwin was leaning over his shoulder. "You can have anything you want here." 

He was reminded suddenly of Erwin carting him off for dinner at Marzell's in Shiganshina a week after the disastrous end of his first expedition. That was a Survey Corps tradition. Usually there was at least a whole squad's worth of cadets who joined at the same time, so while their numbers after one expedition were depleted, they were rarely quite so depressing. Erwin had told Commander Shadis that a rowdy bunch of scouts would only force Levi to skitter off, a lie that was hardly necessary. Shadis had been more than happy to wash his hands of the matter. Actually, he'd told Levi, he'd wanted to talk to him alone. 

Levi hadn't wanted to talk. He'd buried himself in the menu instead, painstakingly puzzling out the letters and numbers. After a moment, Erwin had said carefully, _You can have anything you want here._ Levi, testing him, had picked the grouse, which had combined being fucking awful with being fucking dear, but Erwin had paid up without a murmur. 

"The other stuff makes you feel nice," Levi said, showing him the label. "Carbolic soap makes you feel clean." To the assistant, who was staring at him in frozen horror, he added: "I want six cases." 

Erwin raised a hand, forcing the assistant to halt in her hurry to get away. "What in the world do you want with so much of it?" 

"I'll make the troops clean headquarters with it." Levi turned back to the rack of soaps, wondering if he should give something sweet-smelling to Hange. _But what a waste._ "It's a good routine, it'll take their minds off Titans." 

"Ah, I see." Erwin inclined his head towards the assistant. "You'll want more than that. We'll take twelve cases, if you please, along with these candles. Charge it to the Survey Corps account here." 

Levi opened his mouth to protest – he'd meant to pay for the candles, too, in case he couldn't drag Erwin into one of the dusty little bookshops he liked so much when they were supposed to be here on business – but Erwin quelled him with a wide, genuine smile. "Call it a birthday present, if you like. What day did you decide on, in the end?" 

"It was in December." He was feeling vaguely bereft. 

"Then I'm very late," said Erwin, including the assistant in his smile and forcing her to accompany them towards the next aisle. "I should probably throw in something else, too, to make up for it." 

"Don't be stupid." Levi shoved him, not hard. Then, unable to pass up the opportunity, he added: "I could use some dubbin for my boots." 

"You have such extravagant tastes," said Erwin, sighing, but Levi got his boot polish and Erwin, now the proud possessor of two dozen beeswax candles, had lost that indefinable expression that had irritated Levi all morning. 

"Now, I really do have to see Lady Jarrow and deliver that letter," he said, handing Levi up into the carriage. Levi didn't need his help, but he liked giving Erwin shit to do. 

"Want moral support?" 

"Rather the opposite; but no, thank you." 

"Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do, I guess," Levi said, settling back comfortably against the seat. 

"I appreciate the carte blanche," said Erwin dryly. "Enjoy your afternoon, Levi." 

Levi gave him a lazy mock-salute as the driver whipped up the horses and they jolted away, leaving Erwin standing on the curb. He let the little farce go on for another seven minutes as they rattled down the street, and then he stopped the driver, tipped him heavily enough that he might actually keep his trap shut, and ordered him to return to Pixis's house. Jumping down from the mounting step, Levi strode back towards the chandler's. 

  


* * *

  


Erwin didn't bother watching the carriage go. It seemed likely that Levi would be back at the chandler's within the hour, to rendezvous with the anxious shop assistant and he had no intention of allowing him to worry over him any more. Twelve cases of soap was going to be murder to transport as it was, but they had more than enough purchases already to justify a wagon on the return trip. If he drove it and used Levi as an outrider to protect them from Titans – if they weren't mobbed –

Too many ifs. But it was an improvement over planning his next interview. 

Erwin was admitted to Lady Jarrow's presence only upon the presentation of Pixis's calling card, his rank insignia not enough to gain him entry to the best houses. Bowing over her hand, he became aware that his uniform, unusually neat and clean for a scout even behind the Walls, here marked him out as a rough-and-ready soldier. 

Lady Jarrow dressed in the fashions of her youth, on the principle that they had suited her then and still did. She had a narrow waist emphasised by huge panniers of petticoats beneath an ivory skirt. Her hair had been powdered white for the last thirty years; at some point it had become natural and she had continued powdering it anyway. Her skin was like porcelain china, so pale she was almost translucent. 

"Commander," she said in her silvery voice. "How is my son?" 

"Let him tell you himself," said Erwin, smiling as he drew out the forged letter from his breast pocket. He observed her closely as she opened it and scanned the lines within hungrily. If she noticed anything amiss, she gave no sign. 

"Do try the sandwiches." She gestured absently to the stand of plates. It revolved half a turn under Erwin's touch, revealing a selection of minute cucumber sandwiches, each one perfect and without crusts. Another turn exposed a tray of fairy cakes, equally dainty. Erwin sipped from a cup designed for someone a quarter of his size, and tried to quash the feeling that he was attending a doll's tea party. 

In fact, Lady Jarrow had exerted herself enough to have been one of the strongest voices on the Council backing the cull. Erwin had spent an instructive morning before breakfast mapping out the factional loyalties of those responsible. Seraphina Jarrow was a longstanding ally of Rod Reiss; they owned adjoining lands in northern Rose, among other things. 

"I hope it's not bad news," he said as Lady Jarrow laid down the letter, her fair brow faintly wrinkled. It was actually very bad news; he had made sure of it. 

"No, no," she said. "Tell me…is this Captain Levi a good man?" 

"He's one of my best soldiers," said Erwin. He considered what was most likely to appeal to her. "I probably wouldn't be going too far if I said my best. I couldn't ask for a braver officer." 

"Amalric seems very fond of him." Her fingers found the corner of the letter again, worrying at it. 

He hesitated briefly, apprehensive about over-egging the pudding, but his desire to solidify her impression of Levi won out. "Your son couldn't ask for a more loyal friend." 

"A paragon," she murmured, raising her well-shaped eyebrows. 

"A very foul-mouthed paragon," Erwin amended. It was easy to go too far in talking Levi up. People tended to disbelieve his more impressive qualities until they'd seen him for themselves. 

Lady Jarrow tittered politely. "But surely you didn't just come here to deliver my letter? You must have questions, Commander." 

"I always do," said Erwin, smiling. "Today I'm worried about the plight of the refugees still within the Walls – "

" _All_ the refugees are within the Walls, Commander," she corrected sweetly. 

"Of course," he said. "I meant only to differentiate them from my conscripts. Are your charitable concerns progressing well?" 

There was something really tragic in Lady Jarrow's face as she raised her delicate hands to her mouth. "Oh, no," she said. "I was forced to wind up most of my charities in January." 

"Ah, the tin shortage." 

"Yes, we had absolutely nothing to put the food in. And I never mind criticism, but people were so wretched about the whole matter from the beginning – saying we were giving them spoiled food – how were we to know that dreadful cannery was lining the tins with lead? – that when the time came to make sacrifices, I was positively glad to wash my hands of them." 

Erwin bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. "I think it's difficult for the ordinary mind, with ordinary cares, to truly appreciate the heart of a philanthropist." 

He was fairly certain by this time that he had Lady Jarrow's measure. Her concerns were rarefied; she treated a mass relief effort just the same way she would treat the organisation of a large dinner party, and with about as much investment. Sometimes, dinner parties had to be cancelled, if one had the headache, or a member of the royal family died. She was supremely, unconsciously solipsistic, as were most people Erwin dealt with on the dizzying heights of Mitras. They all shared a secret conviction that they were the only real people in the world, that the others were merely playing roles in the book of their life story. Erwin, too, had once been convinced of this – when he was nine. 

"I much admired your son's principled stance regarding the Maria expedition," he said, throwing out a lure. 

Lady Jarrow paused in her litany of a philanthropist's woes to smile with bemused fondness. "That bout of foolishness, really?" 

Erwin weighed the idea of agreeing, just to see where that got him, but he'd exposed too much of himself in front of Rod Reiss last night and the two of them would undoubtedly compare notes. He might as well show them that he was an idealist without a spine, a man who enjoyed hearing other people speak truth to power without ever pushing the limits of his own. _Is that better or worse than cynicism?_ "I can't blame him for offering up his glove ration as well as his heart." 

She laughed, a pretty, tinkly sound like silver bells on a cat collar. "Silly, silly boys. You soldiers are all such desperate romantics." 

"You're not at all worried about him?" 

"Commander." She leaned forward, her smile like a knife. "Why in the world should I be? I _know_ you'll take good care of my son." 

  


* * *

  


It hadn't been a relationship, in the way that Levi imagined Erwin went about them, with cooked meals and love-tokens and fond thoughts. Between Farlan and Maja, it'd been a pooling of resources. A partnership. Sex, when neither of them was too tired or hungry. Levi and Isabel had spent more than one uncomfortable evening sitting outside the door to their shared room playing spillikins and pretending not to hear the muffled gasps from within. Worse, once Levi had been awoken by the swaying of the top bunk. He'd lain there in the gloomy dark, thoroughly annoyed, while the palm of Maja's hand slapped frantically at the wall above him and Farlan let loose a low, satisfied groan. Everything had been shoved up against each other in the Underground: Levi had seen Isabel shit in a chamber pot and Farlan's astoundingly stupid sex face, and they'd seen him on his hands and knees vomiting onto the floorboards. It had been horrifically incestuous – and smelly – and Levi never wanted to be that close to anyone again. 

He turned into the alley behind the chandler's and waited with his feet slightly apart, ready to move when the meeting went sour. After a few minutes, Maja came stalking round the corner. The miserable horror that had flashed over her face when she saw Levi was gone now, masked over by the dead-eyed fury he remembered well. 

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed, shoving him further into the alley. "This is my fucking life, Levi, don't you _dare_ waltz in and fuck this up for me!" 

"Some life," said Levi nastily, recovering his balance with ease. "Bowing and scraping to Sina swine, you like eating shit that much?" 

"At least I'll see thirty," she bit out. "It's more than Farlan did." 

Levi didn't allow a single muscle to flicker, but the corner of Maja's mouth ticked up with satisfaction.

"What the hell were you doing here, anyway?" she asked, in a somewhat more conciliatory tone. 

"Buying soap," said Levi shortly. 

"That your boss with you?" 

Levi leaned back against the wall of the alley, crossing his ankles. "No, my pet turd. What do you think?" 

She slumped too, against the opposite side. "Life as a soldier treating you well?" 

"All right, I guess." 

"Must be, if you're buying soap here. I never even saw a Survey Corps guy before." 

"What about you?" Levi asked before she could squeeze in another jab. "Enjoying the quiet life?" 

"I got my own bed in the attic here," said Maja flatly. "If it snows, we get a fire." 

"Glad Farlan's pay packet went to a deserving cause," said Levi. 

Maja's lips tightened, but she merely said: "Yeah, it did." 

Isabel's pay had gone to her dad, and, as far as Levi knew, had been squandered on cockfighting at Ealy's. He didn't have anything else to say, so he detached himself from the wall with a tiny shake. It was…bizarre, coming back to the city. Logically, it had been nearly two years. Of course things had changed. Levi had changed. 

He frowned at Maja and decided that she had changed, too. There were unfamiliar lines on her face, and her tangled, greasy hair had been scoured clean so that you could tell it really was blonde after all, not an indeterminate mousy brown. It was swept back in a tight knot over a pressed white blouse and black pinafore. There was something even more closed-off about her now than when they'd left two years ago and she'd never been a cuddly soul. Maybe, he thought, he'd only known her when she was with Farlan. You were different with different people. 

"I barely recognised you when you walked in," Maja said as he reached the mouth of the alley. He paused, waiting for her to make her point. "You were nearly smiling, it was fucked up. Then you come and order twelve cases of soap and I knew it had to be you." 

"I had a shitty night," Levi said. 

"I can't believe you got him to pay for it," said Maja with a snort. "Some skill, for an uptight knobhead like you. You get it from your mama?" 

Levi froze, his right hand automatically clenching into a fist. Rage rose in his throat, choking him, and the clasp knife rested heavy against his knee. It would be nice to kill someone after last night, and wipe the smirk of all those faces, watch them curdle into queasy fear. Every last one of those fuckers who thought they could get away with needling him –

– _stop putting me in this position_ –

– _what could a knife possibly have done to improve the situation?_

Levi's fist squeezed for one impossibly long minute. Then he spun on his heel and walked away. By the time he reached the crossroads at the end of the street, he'd almost convinced himself that he was right. 

  


* * *

  


After his visit to Lady Jarrow, Erwin took the scenic route to military police HQ in order to clear his head. It took a lot of clearing. He'd left Jarrow Place at ten to twelve. Despite the fact that the MP headquarters were only three streets away, it wasn't until the great clock in Reiss Square struck two that Erwin found himself mounting the steps. 

Nile was in his office, cornered by Commander Voss and her usual escort of two lieutenants and a captain. These de facto bodyguards were trying, and failing, to be unobtrusive by flattening themselves against the wall. When Erwin entered, it became immediately obvious how overstuffed the room was, and he stared down the captain until he cracked and silently dismissed the lieutenants. 

"…And I don't know what you were playing at, letting Schirmer take two dozen of the consignment, but now we've got a shortfall of three hundred marks – "

"Erwin!" Nile cried out as he moved into view, less in delight than in the grip of horrible anxiety. "Good to see you!" 

Clara Voss swung round, a tall, dark-haired woman with a lantern jaw. Erwin knew her only slightly, and mostly by reputation: her life, on the surface, had been a parade of success. She'd left the Training Corps with overall scores that had only ever been equalled by Mike's, and had gone from strength to strength as she climbed the ladder. The newest medal adorning her jacket had been awarded after the fall of Shiganshina, for her personal valour in controlling a riot in the capital. She'd had the rioters corralled by the military police on the Bachmeier dog-track before a concerted attack by several special squads. Voss had given no quarter, trampling several beneath her horse's hooves and cutting down anyone who seemed inclined to retaliate. The final count had been two hundred and twenty-nine dead and hundreds more injured, although Nile had assured him that the total was entirely unofficial. Well, naturally. It hadn't been published. 

All that personal valour, and her body count wasn't a tenth of Erwin's. 

"Commander," he said with a salute, judging correctly that this would please Voss rather than disgust her. 

"Commander," she said, returning it graciously. 

"May I borrow Captain Dok for a few hours?" Erwin nodded to Nile, who was looking harassed. "I don't want to play havoc with his work schedule, but I'm only in town for a couple of days." 

"Certainly you may," Voss said. Her mouth twisted; the effect reminded Erwin sharply of Levi watching bad wire work. "Perhaps you'll get more use out of him than I can today. Dok, I want a verbal report by tomorrow morning." 

She spun on her heel and left, taking her collection of subordinates with her, and Nile heaved a sigh of relief, beginning to gather up his papers. Erwin dipped his head, reading some of the scribbled lines upside down before they were whisked out of sight. 

"That got me out of the doghouse for now, anyway." 

They adjourned to the Rose and Crown, where Nile knocked back one finger of whiskey before ordering his second in five minutes. Fortunately, the pub was quiet at two o'clock in the afternoon and they found a table easily enough. 

"I take it that's not the first time you've been chewed out recently," said Erwin with some amusement. 

"Four," said Nile gloomily. "That's how many fuck-ups landed on my desk this week." 

"That seems excessive," said Erwin, who usually dealt with at least four a day. "What was this one about, when I came in?" 

"Chloroform." Nile rested the glass against his forehead for a moment, sighing deeply. "There's a third party who takes a cut of each consignment for resale purposes, and I let him take too much. Now there's a discrepancy in the records." 

"If you're already faking them," said Erwin, as mildly as he could, "then why not just fake them again?" 

"The receipts already went to Zackley's office." Nile took a gulp of his whiskey, not even seeming to feel the burn as it went down. "It's not a _problem_ – I'll just send them over again and apologise for the mistake – but it's a hassle and it looks bad, you know?" 

Erwin nodded, thinking fast. "Does this man resell anything else?" 

Nile shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do you ask?" 

"I want to buy. We've a shortage of medical supplies out in Maria territory, and none of the shops here have the kind of bulk we need." 

"I should say not, if you're buying wholesale." Nile's suspicions seemed to be allayed. He screwed up his face. "I can put you in touch with him before we leave, if you like. Most of the business goes through Voss, but I'm sure he won't mind a buyer." 

"Thank you." Erwin knocked back his whole glass, which had previously gone untouched. For some reason, his stomach was roiling. He controlled himself with an effort, and said: "My round?" 

He stood at the bar while the waitress poured out two more doubles, contending with his bellyache. The medical supplies had presumably been destined for the hospitals within the Walls; well, so what? This stock had already been diverted. It would benefit everyone if Erwin bought it for Rosenwald and Chenzen; mostly, of course, it would benefit the black marketeer who sold it, but that was already a done deal. He let out a long breath, forcing down the well of emotion that always lurked beneath his rational mind, and returned to their table. 

"That was only one problem," he said to Nile. "What were the other three?" 

Nile set down his glass with a click. "Not that interesting. Stop trying to pump me for information." 

"Certainly, if you don't pass on everything I'm saying to Commander Voss." 

"I wouldn't," Nile said. Erwin laughed; it was almost genuine. 

"Why else would she let you leave in the middle of the day to go drinking? If you're not stupid, then neither am I." 

"Right," said Nile. He rubbed his forehead, trying to massage out the frown lines. "For fuck's sake, Erwin. Look, let's just talk, okay?" 

"What would you like to talk about?" 

"I don't know! This was always your bag." Nile waved a vague hand in the air. "Er, Marie and I are thinking of moving out of the city." 

"Why?" 

"You wouldn't say that if you had to live here. House prices are sky-high since the fall, and it's not a good place for children, you know, what with the Underground below us all the time – "

Erwin considered Commander Voss's interest in the black market in silence for some time, with the occasional noise of sympathy. The current trade in medical supplies was only viable as long as medical emergencies were endemic – that was, as long as the refugee situation continued, with thousands of people clustered together with poor sanitation and little food. Her involvement couldn't be a long-term scheme, in that case. As more and more refugees died, the price of medicines and other paraphernalia would go through the ceiling, but the decline in demand after that would be precipitous. And it would be risky, particularly as the supplies became more and more valuable. 

But risk, he thought, was not something which worried Clara Voss. 

"Why, what happened?" he said to Nile, whose conversation had meandered back around to work again, his magnetic north. 

"Duelling," Nile said. He took another long sip from his glass and put it down, noticeably looser than he'd been when they came in. "Emma Vogel accused Becker of cheating at baccarat – he called her out for the insult and shot her. Now I've got to move him out of my squad, or there'll be worse trouble, but there's nowhere to move him _to_. None of the others will do a straight swap, he's got too much of a reputation." 

"Ah." Erwin rested his chin on the palm of his hand, enjoying this window onto a world he rarely glimpsed. "Unpopular with his own set?" 

"Well, the family's got money and he always stands his round," said Nile, scrupulously fair. "But apart from that – Vogel _was_ liked. I can't seem to smooth things over. How would you do it?" 

"We don't go in for duelling in the Corps, as a rule," Erwin said, thinking fleetingly of Levi. Of course, to split hairs, Levi would never be the one to instigate a duel – only to end it. "It's rather too dangerous for all concerned." Even if one succeeded in killing one's opponent, they would still have friends whom you might have to rely on in the field some day. Never mind anything else. "I don't think I've ever had to oversee a fight that went beyond fisticuffs – or Commander Shadis, for that matter." 

"This is about the first time I've wished I joined the Survey Corps since I was eighteen," said Nile darkly. "The whole business has been a monumental headache from start to finish. I had to write a death notice to Vogel's parents. What the hell could I say? _Dear Mr and Mrs Vogel, I regret to inform you that your daughter has been killed in the line of making a bloody fool of herself. Yours sincerely, her CO._ "

"That is the formula," said Erwin. 

"I'd like to pull every idiot who throws down the gauntlet up on charges for stupidity. I just kept thinking, what if it was Juli? I'd want Becker hanged – hell, I want him in jail _now_. But it's all right and tight, legally speaking – they had two seconds and a surgeon, though why they bothered with one of those if they were really trying to kill each other – "

"To make it look good to the other," Erwin said, in some surprise. 

"I suppose." Nile pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a miserable sound. "Ugh, I don't want to think about it any more. Are you coming to dinner tonight?" 

"Is that an invitation?" Erwin smiled to hide the sudden swooping of his gut. Dinner with Nile and Marie and little Juli – pretending for hours on end that everything was fine – was a little more than he felt able to face at this juncture. "I'm afraid I have to decline, I'm already promised to Pixis this evening." 

"Well, church tomorrow, then," Nile urged him. 

" _Church_?" Erwin couldn't keep the shock from his voice. Nile had the grace to be sheepish, if nothing else. 

"I know it's not your speed – "

" – it was never yours, either, if I recall – "

"The brass like it, so we go every now and then," Nile said, exasperated. "It's not much of a sacrifice to make, if you ask me. And Marie likes the pastor." 

"I need Levi with me tomorrow – "

"Bring him, too, then," said Nile with unprecedented magnanimity. Erwin looked at him searchingly. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

"I'd sooner have you with me tomorrow than not," Nile said. "Really, Erwin – "

"What's wrong?" he repeated. 

Nile sighed deeply. "I may – _may_ – have heard on the grapevine that you should watch your back." 

The pub was very quiet, and Nile's voice very loud. Erwin sat back in his chair. "That is the sort of thing you tell me at the _start_ of a conversation, Nile." 

"You side-tracked me," said Nile grumpily. 

There was another moment of silence while Erwin re-oriented himself. Knowing someone was actually trying to kill you as opposed to only vaguely hoping you would die required some mental shifting. He wondered if he would be safe in Rosenwald; or, more specifically, if his ill-wisher's influence penetrated beyond Wall Rose. 

"Thank you," he said eventually. "You've given me a lot to think about." 

"Oh, good," said Nile, with weary sarcasm. "Will I see you tomorrow, then?" 

"You can escort me to and from the church, if you like," Erwin said, smiling. "I ought to be safe inside it." Though not necessarily. 

He stood up, putting down several marks to cover the cost of their drinks. It was significantly more than it would have been this time last year; whether it was because of a shortage or, frighteningly, inflation, he didn't know. Nile walked out with him; they were halfway to Pixis's house before he split off towards his own home. It was that, more than anything else, which convinced Erwin of the seriousness of the threat: Nile would never have bothered otherwise. 

Pixis's front door opened to a knock, and Erwin strode inside, handing off his coat and hat to the butler. The most unpleasant part was still to come, he thought with mordant amusement. He was going to have to tell Levi about it. 

  


* * *

  


Levi was still showing a propensity to linger in his presence the next morning, not because of the threat but thanks to Erwin's inexplicable emotional hiccup the night before last. He had actually taken the news with relative equanimity, doing nothing more than offer to swap rooms and, when Erwin had refused, insisting on lining the floor around the door with drawing pins and completely blocking up the window. This had resulted in a stuffy, uncomfortable night for Erwin and some extra work for the maid, but on the bright side, he was still alive. 

However, Levi did seem to have a sticking point, and attending Wallist services was it. 

"Why won't you come to church?" Erwin asked, smiling as Levi made a disgusted noise. "I'd appreciate the company." 

"Haven't you got your little pals for that?" Levi said, idly picking up the letter-opener and playing with it. It was a rather nice one, obviously a gift, with the silver hilt twisted into a filigree unicorn's head. 

"Without you, I'll be stuck playing gooseberry," said Erwin. That had been uncomfortable enough when they all lived in one another's pockets. He didn't like to think of what it would be now, with years of distance stretching out between them. 

"Aren't they bringing the kid?" asked Levi. He was trying to balance the letter-opener on his knuckles, but it kept sliding off. Erwin reached out and stilled his hand, concerned; Levi was rarely this fidgety. 

"Not to a fancy cathedral service," he said. "Really, Levi. Juli would hate it, and everyone else would hate _them_."

"Tch." Levi made what on anyone else's face Erwin would have described as a moue of distaste. On Levi, of course, it was very properly a sneer. He pulled his hand away. "I'm not coming in for the service. You'll be on your own there." 

"Honestly, Nile's information was specious at best," Erwin said kindly. "I highly doubt anything will happen before we leave." Besides, he was doing everything asked of him. 

"Still." Levi regarded him for a tense moment. _Still hovering._ Erwin bit back a growl of frustration. "Are you all right?" 

"I'm fine, Levi." He supposed he deserved some sort of explanation for his bizarre breakdown the other night, but Erwin had no desire to give one. The point of conducting an emotional spasm in the dark was that no one saw it. "To be frank with you, nothing's actually changed. We suspected that the administrative messiness of the expedition was deliberate, and we were right. That's a net positive; we can proceed on a much more solid basis now." 

"I guess," said Levi, was so quietly that Erwin could barely hear him. 

"Are you going to wear a sword?" he asked. 

"Yeah." Levi stepped round him and headed to the door. "I'll borrow one off the old man. Since you won't." 

"I can hardly wear a sword into the Grand Cathedral," said Erwin, exasperated, but after Levi had gone he picked up Levi's clasp knife from the bedside table and tucked it into his boot. Paranoia was contagious. 

Nile and Marie called for them at half past ten, by which time Levi had chosen and discarded nine swords with as much painstaking discrimination as if they were hats. Erwin had been partial to the old cavalry sabre ("brittle as fuck") and Pixis to the hefty claymore ("it's bigger than I am"), but Levi eventually settled on a pretty rapier with a swept hilt just as the doorbell rang. 

"It's sharp all round," he said approvingly to Pixis, who maintained the care of his collection himself. "Point _and_ both edges." 

"I never had much use for it," Pixis said wistfully. "It was a nice duelling sword, once upon a time." 

"Still is," said Levi. "I'll use your letter-opener in the off-hand, old man." 

Erwin handed it over, and Levi slid it into his waistband over his right hip. 

"Should I have called up a brigade of artillery to go with us?" Nile asked from the doorway. He and Marie were crowding out the butler, who announced them in sepulchral tones lightened by profound melancholy. 

"You know you only have to say the word," Marie added, shedding her muff to hold both hands out to Erwin in greeting. She kissed him on the cheek and turned to introduce herself to Levi without being prompted. "I don't think I've had a letter from Erwin in _years_ that didn't mention you." 

"What did he say?" Levi enquired, stiffening. Erwin shot him a reproving look over her head. _As if I would have told her that_. In fact, his letters to Marie over the first few months of Levi's service in the Corps had been an exercise in elision and obfuscation, particularly since he knew she read them all to Nile. He wouldn't have mentioned him at all, but he'd wanted to tell someone who didn't already know about Levi's progress, about his talent and his drive. It had been a sop to his own ego, he supposed. 

"That you were the most fearless man he'd ever met, and magnificent to watch in the air." Marie put a finger to her chin in her charming, artless way, which Erwin knew to be entirely constructed from scratch after she married Nile and his career had started going places. He'd caught her practising expressions in her bedroom mirror, and, rather taken aback, had asked what she was doing. She'd blinked her wide, limpid eyes at him, and said: "I was just mimicking _you_ ". 

"It's true enough, I guess," said Levi. He hadn't relaxed since they walked in. 

"If we don't go now, we'll be late," said Erwin. "Are you ready, Levi?" 

Levi pushed past him impatiently. "Are _you_ ready?" 

He had never been a social butterfly, but during the carriage ride Levi became even more saturnine than usual, responding in grunts to direct questions and staring out into the street. Marie kept up a relentless stream of small talk, full of "do-you-remembers" and "how-was-its", and Erwin played up to her gratefully. 

"I hear you were squiring Lady Almira around the other night," she said. "She seemed very pleased with you, even if you did get interrupted." 

"I was very pleased with her," said Erwin. In the corner, Levi snorted. "What is it?" 

"We all noticed," Levi said. 

Erwin gave this some thought, could not recall what Levi was referring to, and returned his attention to Marie. "The family's fallen on hard times since Wall Maria, though." 

"I heard," Marie said sympathetically. "They couldn't afford new mourning after the father died, and had to make over all the old stuff from when the mother croaked." Beside her, Levi started suddenly. It was only the barest of flickers, but Marie saw it and seemed to feel he deserved an explanation. "My brother is married to her lady's maid." 

"I was sure something seemed odd about her dress," said Erwin, privately amused at the byplay. "I couldn't put my finger on it, but now I see that the fell hand of Beatrice was at work." 

"It's honestly dreadful how bad she is at sewing," Marie said. "I don't understand how she keeps her job." She turned to Levi. "She once offered to mend Erwin's trousers and he got them back with the most awful pucker right down the worst possible place. And _that_ is the story of why Erwin learned to sew for himself." 

The barouche rolled to a halt near the cathedral steps. Erwin stepped out first and handed Marie down. Levi came last. He walked up to the huge double doors with them, and then stationed himself outside. 

"Aren't you coming in with us?" Nile asked. "What are you, a dog to be tied up outside?" 

Levi bristled, and Erwin touched his shoulder briefly. "Be easy, Nile. Levi is only keen to act on your information." 

"Well," said Nile, mollified. 

They sat down in a pew near the middle, minus Levi, and Erwin racked his brains for how the service was supposed to go. It must have been at least ten or twelve years since he'd set foot in a church, certainly not since he'd started Basic, and before that not since they moved to Stohess. That had been the last in a series of moves, from one village to another. His mother had believed with profound terror that the government was watching them: as far as Erwin knew, she'd been right. Each time they reached a new village, they'd settle down for four or five months. His mother would take pupils for mathematics, and Erwin would be her silent assistant and model student. He had not been sure – he was still not sure, and now never would be – whether or not she knew his father's arrest had been his fault. Inevitably, in any case, she would become troubled by something she might have noticed or overheard, and within the week they would pack up and be off again. The anonymity of Stohess had proven a blessing: they'd stuck it out there long enough for Erwin to become eligible for military training. 

He'd sent back money and letters for the first six months, until he'd received a curt note from their landlord to the effect that his mother was dead and cremated. Erwin had never tried to retrieve her ashes. Let her rest in peace, for once. 

The hymns were more or less as he remembered, though he winced at the choice: three songs of praise to Maria and one to all three Walls in unity. It seemed, hah, tone-deaf. The priest was a political type Erwin had seen before, the one who usually dogged the footsteps of Lord Reiss. He was a tall man, with thick blond hair and brown eyes; handsome, Erwin noted with cool appraisal, although not at all the type that attracted him. Good looks like that were wasted on the priesthood. Or – hearing the clink of the collection plate – perhaps not. 

"Today I ask you all to lay down your prayer books," he said. His voice was deep and sonorous; Erwin supposed it was a necessary skill in the Wallist cult. "Today we pray only for the safe recovery of our goddess." 

Erwin did not lay down his prayer book; his hands tensed over the pages. 

"It is more than half a year since she left us," said the priest. What was his name? Pastor Gottlieb? Erwin lifted his head to watch him more closely. "Three months ago, the bravest soldier within the Walls set out to retake her for love and glory alone – "

Beside him, Erwin could feel Nile give a tiny huff. Once upon a time, they'd sat through endless meetings together, arguing the toss with priest after priest. Every so often Nile would look at him as if to say, _can you believe this crap_? If Erwin turned his head, he knew Nile would be giving him that same droll look. But he could take no pleasure in it. 

"He is here today, home from the wars," Pastor Gottlieb continued. "Come to pay his respects at the heart of Sina…"

Every head in the cathedral was turning, but Erwin stared straight ahead at Pastor Gottlieb. There was something wrong with his chest; some kind of sick clenching sensation. The priest met his gaze with a warm smile. 

"The collection this morning will be in aid of the Maria expedition," he said. "Please give generously, and from the heart." 

Well, that was something. Wallists in Mitras tended to be on the wealthy side; one of the advantages of a mystery cult was that one could charge a steep entrance fee. Pastor Gottlieb went on to the homilies, and after that they sang another farcical hymn about the impending return of Maria. It had obviously been written in haste, and borrowed the tune of another, better song, but Erwin forced down his distaste and sang as loudly as anyone. 

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marie murmured to him as they rose afterwards. Erwin could not bring himself to reply, but led the way out of the cathedral with a long, quick stride. She had to jog to keep up. "Erwin!" 

Someone jostled him hard as he went through the doors, slamming him against the jamb. Levi was at his side in a moment, already annoyed. 

"Hey – " he began. 

"You shoved me!" said a young nobleman angrily, swinging on them. He was richly dressed; his buckskin pantaloons so tight that Erwin guessed, wearily, that he must be at the cutting edge of fashion. He sighed, and moved to intervene. 

"I'm sure it was an accident and Captain Levi meant no offence – "

"He's talking to you, moron," said Levi. 

"You deliberately crowded me!" said the young nobleman, his face contorted with fury – but not reddening, Erwin thought. He looked more keenly at him and saw that the young man wasn't angry, only tense. 

_Oh. What did I do wrong?_

The realisation was oddly distant; all of a sudden he felt very far away. He was bringing his hands up, opening them palm-out. His voice, too, did not seem like his own, even though it came out calm and conciliatory. "Then I am sorry. I apologise." 

"I don't accept your apology!" 

"There's no need for that," said Nile. He sounded worried, Erwin thought. There was no need to worry. 

"Sir, I will have satisfaction from you," said the young nobleman. He marched forward, his gait thrown off by what was clearly the unfamiliar weight of a sword hanging from his hip. "Are you a gentleman?" 

"No," said Erwin gently. The sick clenching in his chest was back, but it brought with it a cold, brutal fury. "But you can have it anyway." 

"Don't be a fool, Erwin, are you mad?" Nile cried. Erwin turned to Levi, and held out his hand. 

"Your sword, please." 

Levi lifted it from his belt and passed it over. He seemed utterly composed. Of course, he must be used to this. Duelling was supposed to be a gentleman's pastime, but Levi must have seen plenty of young cocks strutting about the Underground, with all the same grandiose chatter translated into thieves' cant. 

Erwin unsheathed the rapier in one smooth movement and raised his arm high so that the blade caught in the sun, glittering. 

"Shall we start at two paces?" he asked. The young nobleman was the colour of mouldy cheese; Erwin had seen a lot of that by now. "I'm told that's the usual requirement. For reasons of fair play." 

Nile, fuming, drew the line for them on the large wide step halfway up the flight of stairs leading to the doors of the cathedral. Erwin stepped one pace away from it; the young nobleman did the same. As he brought the rapier up to his nose, Erwin found that he was smiling, or at least that his mouth was curved upwards and his lips were pulled back from his teeth. This must be how Levi felt at the prospect of a fight, he thought. This perfect, serene place of animal rage. 

Nile dropped the handkerchief. It fluttered down between them as Erwin stepped forward, knocking the young nobleman's sword out of the way with his forearm as it came down on a wild slash. It was a matter of angles. Angles and will, that was what Levi had said – 

He thrust the point of the rapier up under the young nobleman's ribcage; it slid in as easily as a steak knife through a slab of meat and kept going, up, up, until the tip protruded from the nape of his neck. There wasn't any blood, not immediately. The young nobleman stared at him, his mouth slightly open, as if he hadn't yet realised he was dead. 

He tried to step back, tugging the sword with him, but the blade wedged against bone and every time he wrenched at the hilt it stuck further. The young nobleman was still upright, transfixed by the stab wound and wobbling whenever Erwin jerked his arm. Tragedy was rapidly becoming farce. He tried again, yanking at the jammed blade. 

" – Erwin," said Levi, gentler than he had ever heard him before. "Erwin. You have to let go of it." 

His cool hands covered Erwin's, which were slippery with blood. Erwin released his death grip on the sword hilt, and the young nobleman's corpse crumpled to the ground like a marionette whose strings had suddenly been cut. He was aware, for the first time, of the horrified crowd that had gathered around them. 

"Good, that's good," said Levi. "Well done." 

He knelt and retrieved Nile's handkerchief from the ground, using it to wipe away the blood covering Erwin's fingers. Erwin was conscious of something – of nothing. A presence of absence. A vast wasteland of emotion. 

He took a step back, this time successfully. His voice, when he spoke, was as collected as if this were a garden party. "Levi," he said. "I'll be at headquarters all afternoon sorting out this mess. Would you be so kind as to pack my things for me?" 

"Yes," said Levi. 


	6. Apogee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin performs more than one surprise inspection, and Levi is deeply frustrated.

It was an unpleasant day in early June, too hot for riding leathers and too muggy for a jacket. Erwin was wearing both: the perimeter guard were enduring a surprise inspection, for which he needed to be at his most intimidating. By the time he and Guerin reached the lines of barbed wire strung around the city, about half a kilometre out from the walls, the sweat was dripping down his face and he had to wipe it from his eyes before calling up to the guard. 

"Lieutenant!" 

The Garrison lieutenant, a tall man with a perpetual frown, dropped down from the nest of the flimsy watchtower. It was a rickety platform suspended on what was essentially a tripod; the main virtue of this and the twenty-five others scattered around the perimeter was their cheapness. They looked as if they might topple over in the breeze. 

"Sorry, sir," he said, gabbling while clearly trying not to cast anxious glares up at the tower. "We had no idea you were coming – "

"That was the idea," said Erwin coolly. "Playing cards, are they?" 

The lieutenant hesitated, weighing his options carefully and eventually coming to the conclusion that a man had to look out for himself first. "Aye, sir, I told them not to, I said it was a sin – "

"I'm more concerned that you apparently can't control your squad." As the lieutenant recoiled in mortification, Erwin raised his voice. "Get down here!" 

The three wayward squaddies emerged guiltily from the nest and clambered slowly down the rope ladder, assembling themselves before Erwin and Guerin like a line of shamefaced children. Erwin surveyed them with a cold eye. 

"What is the punishment for not remaining alert on watch?" he enquired. 

There was an awkward silence. Then one of the squaddies said, very quietly, "Flogging." 

"And why is that?" 

This time, the silence went on much too long, until Erwin said, by now thoroughly angry: "Because when soldiers like you neglect their duties, people die. If a Titan crashed through the perimeter – and a Titan _will_ crash through the perimeter, it happens every day – and you were too slow, it would reach the city, and people would die. If a Titan slapped this watchtower from the ground – and this happened last week, not too far from here – you would all die. No great loss to humanity, perhaps, but we need every soldier we have to protect the civilians. If you die, that's another night's sleep someone else will lose covering your shift. How many people are there in Rosenwald, Fischer?" 

Fischer the squaddie nearly jumped out of his skin, startled at being addressed directly. "Er, fifty thousand, sir?" 

"Fifty-two thousand, four hundred and sixty-six," said Erwin softly. He passed his hands behind his back, where he could clench them without anyone seeing. "Another forty-five thousand in Chenzen. And _you_ are the only protection they have. That is why failing to remain alert on duty is a flogging offence, Fischer." 

"I'm sorry, sir," said the squaddie, chewing on his lip. He seemed to decide something important. "I didn't want to, sir, only the lieutenant said – "

"I am not interested in what the lieutenant said," said Erwin icily. He turned his back on them deliberately for a moment, leaving them to stew while he meditated. "As this is a first offence, I'll overlook it for now." And since they could afford neither the time nor the hospital beds to allow them to recover from a flogging. "Since you can't be trusted, you'll be assigned duties inside the perimeter, assisting Captain Levi in cleaning the headquarters." 

Fischer looked like he'd rather have been flogged. Flogging carried a certain amount of cachet among the soldiery, a sign of toughness, unlike surviving one of Levi's insanely tedious cleaning routines. 

"It could have been worse," said Guerin as they rode on to the next outpost. "They could have been sleeping." 

"It's bad enough they were distracted at all," said Erwin. His fury wasn't leeching away as it normally did; it remained, a heavy pulsing in his veins. "If a Titan had come through while they were on watch, at least eight people would probably be dead." 

"There's still the earthworks and the wall guard," said Guerin reasonably. Erwin forced himself to listen to her. "I'm not arguing with you, but we caught them in time, you know?" 

He was too angry to answer, spurring his horse into a gallop instead. Stupid, he thought, the hot, stagnant air passing over his face too slowly to cool him down. The very thing guaranteed to offend Guerin, whom he needed on his side. 

" _Stop!_ " she shouted at him, several lengths behind. He rode faster anyway for a minute or two, until he realised he was being childish for no benefit. 

"I apologise," he said through a tight jaw, reining in his mount and turning in the saddle. But something had caught Guerin's attention; she was trotting off towards a juniper tree that stood alone, bent in half in a way Erwin found faintly unnerving, so that its needles swept across the ground. 

"Berries," she said, with real pleasure. 

"For the food store?" Erwin asked, casting about him for a box. 

"For the gin still," Guerin said, unbuckling one of her panniers. 

They gathered as many as they could, which wasn't many: the tree had already been preyed upon by birds and animals – other animals, Erwin thought. By the time they'd finished, he was feeling calmer, and his second apology came across as entirely genuine. 

Guerin shrugged, twisting in her saddle. "That's all right. It's not like I wasn't spitting mad myself, it's just that, well – "

"Well, what?" 

"You're not normally like that." She was immediately uncomfortable, diverting her gaze from him. "It doesn't matter, I was only surprised." 

A little surprised himself, Erwin digested this. "I suppose I was upset." 

"Yeah, it's just – "

Erwin looked at her and Guerin closed her mouth abruptly. They didn't speak again for the rest of the afternoon. 

  


* * *

  


"Go and mop the second-floor hallway again," Levi said to Nanaba, the only one on his cleaning squad who hadn't protested violently against her assignment. She saluted immediately and left without asking why. He turned to address Keller, who topped him by nearly a foot, making it harder to look down his nose at him, but not impossible. 

" _Why_ can't you wash walls?" 

"I think it might be against my religion," Keller said, casting his eyes up to heaven. "To touch or defile a wall in any way is anathema to me." 

Levi curled back his upper lip. "Is this a joke?" 

"No!" said Keller, piously shocked. 

"You're a soldier of the Survey Corps. Get on your knees." 

Keller placed one palm over his heart in a parody of a salute. "Captain, I'm not that sort of boy." 

"Keller," Levi said with malicious pleasure, "if you're so committed to the holy life, go find me a single Wallist priest in this entire city, and I'll put you back on wall duty myself. Otherwise, I suggest you start wiping that skirting board." 

Levi gave him no credit for it, but Keller stood his ground. "It's terrible, what's happened to religion in this city since the fall – "

"Keller – "

" – not a single shepherd for the flock, and a mad cult on the south side – "

Levi crossed his arms, his head tilted back slightly to sneer more effectively. "I don't give a shit about anything you're saying, Keller." 

"I _should_ be on wall duty," Keller said fiercely, pushed past his capacity for religious claptrap. "All you've got up there right now is Garrison and that limp-dicked knobhead from the MP – "

"Because our squad has fatigue duties today," said Nanaba, coming back down the stairs. She was swinging her mop bucket, until she caught Levi's eye and set it down meekly. "Sorry, Captain, the water needed changing. But we can't be on the wall all the time, you know? If we get cycled out to run drills or clean headquarters or write reports, that's as close as it gets to being on leave. And you shouldn't call Captain Jarrow a knobhead. The commander won't like it." 

"Captain Levi didn't even _notice_ ," Keller protested, but he got down on his knees and picked up a scrubbing brush all the same. Levi nodded to Nanaba, who took up her bucket and went outside to fill it from the pump. 

Unobserved for a short moment, he dug his fingers into the bridge of his nose, the way he'd seen Erwin do more than once. It didn't seem to help. 

  


* * *

  


The meeting wasn't running as smoothly as Erwin had hoped at the start. The room was stuffy, every breath of air old and stale. There was a fly buzzing somewhere near his head; the noise was drilling into his temple. 

"Honestly, the attacks have quietened down a lot since April," said Sokolova, leaning back in her chair, which had originally been borrowed from Levi's office and now had a permanent place in Erwin's. Levi, who never worked in his own office anyway, hadn't appeared to notice. "I'm wondering if we can't afford to cut down the number of shifts for watch duty. Not the perimeter guard, obviously, but the wall itself? We don't need that many people up there all the time – it'd give them more of a chance to rest, and improve morale." 

"I take your point," Erwin said, tidying the papers in front of him while he thought of how to repel this argument. The buzzing was getting louder. "But that only shifts the burden further onto the perimeter guard. We still suffer at least one attack on the city walls every week – proof enough, if you like, that our defences need _strengthening_ , not the other way around. I grant you that the situation has improved – " _and, frankly, that in itself worries me_ – "but complacency is the worst possible response." 

The gradual improvement of Rosenwald's chances was the cause of a bizarre, nagging fear that plagued him worse than toothache. The frequency of the Titan attacks had flagged after a spate of heavy casualties in April, without ever trailing off. They now encountered them around once or twice a day, and it was mostly the province of the perimeter guard. Erwin could put no faith in Jarrow's pleased "They don't like the taste of our steel", nor in Levi's dubious "Maybe we've just killed so fucking many by now", which he'd recanted a minute later anyway when the bells started clanging. 

_What if they're used to us? What if we smell differently to them now?_ Erwin hadn't thought anything of the stench until he'd come back from Mitras the first time; today, it was unbearable, and what it reeked most of was Titan rot. In his more fanciful three o'clocks, he closed his eyes and wondered if this was how it began, if his father had been right, if humans mutated into Titans. 

There must be a reason why they stopped, he thought, and hesitated, arrested by the obvious corollary. _There must be a reason why they started._ If their goal was merely to devour human flesh, Rosenwald and Chenzen had been and continued to be the softest and closest targets, which didn't explain why the number of attacks had decreased. Was there another town out there, an easier victim? It was hardly credible. Had the seeming mindlessness of the Titans obscured their true motive all along? 

He came to a sudden decision. Marsden's speech about the need for a couple of ratters to protect the grain silos from murine depredations died away as Erwin raised his hand for silence. 

"I'll be visiting Chenzen on the 21st," he informed them quietly. "I'm taking Levi with me – "

Marsden scoffed. "Of course." 

"Excuse me?" said Erwin, his tone perfectly even. He had a lot of practice in looking like he was the last person to become angry. Marsden did not. 

"You tote him round everywhere. What is he, a poodle? Nobody else even leaves Rosenwald!"

Erwin raised his eyebrows. "Did you particularly want to ride courier between the towns, Captain? You should have volunteered – before Captain Levi did, I mean." 

Marsden made a disgusted noise. Erwin glanced around at the others: Hartmann, the meeting's secretary, had her head downcast over her notes, Sokolova's prominent jaw was tense, and Jarrow was positively enjoying the spat. This was not the time to lose his temper. 

"If you want to swap rotas with Captain Levi, be my guest, but you'll have to take it up with him," he said, secure in the knowledge that Levi would hiss and scratch and make Marsden's life slightly more hellish than it already was. "Now, if there's any other business?" 

There wasn't. Erwin took his leave, glad to escape his horrendous office. He made his way across the courtyard of military HQ and out into the street. He had heard, almost like a legend, that it was supposed to be cooler down by the river. 

The heat of the day made an unpleasant smell unendurable, causing Erwin's dulled nose to burn and his eyes to water. He waved a hand in front of his face as he wandered along the bank, attempting to discourage the midges and flies which congregated there from guzzling him.

"Look out!" hollered a woman's voice, and Erwin narrowly dodged a mess of faeces and urine flung from a chamber pot. "Oh, sugar, I'm so sorry – "

"Don't worry about it," said Erwin, unharmed and rather amused. At least it hadn't been deliberate. 

He kept his gaze on the murky waters of the river as he walked, uncertain of whether he wanted to chance meeting anyone's eyes. There were quite a lot of people milling around at this time of the afternoon: a drover on the other bank whose cows were wading knee-deep in the silty water; a baker closing up his shop; a woman, pleading with him to give her an advance on her next week's ration. 

Erwin turned away, and then turned back. 

"Try the barracks' kitchens, if you're in dire need," he told the woman. He took out his notebook and scribbled down a message to the head cook before tearing it out and handing it over. She gulped her thanks and ran. 

The baker said sharply: "Guess the Survey Corps wastes that much food, huh?" 

"No," said Erwin levelly. "I'm just not hungry myself, tonight." 

He was, but the relief of having momentarily assuaged his conscience – he was capable of moderate self-awareness – carried him back to the barracks, to his airless office where he spent the night in his chair, only half-sleeping, and woke with the dawn. 

  


* * *

  


Levi's room was tiny: a stuffy box furnished with a camp bed and a makeshift chest of drawers consisting of boards nailed together with a sheet flung over the top to protect his clothes from dust and moths. It couldn't protect them from wear and tear, though; his three shirts, which normally would have lasted a year, were more darning and patch than original linen. The gear was hard on seams. 

The shirts had been a gift from Erwin last winter, after the official announcement of the reclamation campaign. Levi still didn't understand what had prompted it. He'd done well enough with the cheap, thin material all the bog-standard tops were made of, so he hadn't _needed_ fresh. The alternative, some kind of sentimental gesture made grotesque by timing, left him confused and miserable. 

Late afternoon light was streaming in through his postage-stamp window, making the dust glitter and dance in his vision. Levi lay on his back, unhappily contemplating the ceiling mould, and his hand began to steal south. He undid the buttons of his fly one by one, still staring at the ceiling, trying to stay detached from what his fingers were doing. 

The last few times he'd done this had been exercises in frustration, wringing at his dick for what felt like hours before collapsing back on his mattress sore and furious. Once, he'd fallen asleep halfway through – at least he'd got some satisfaction out of that. His body could exhaust itself, but Levi could not relax. 

His hand was coaxing his cock to hardness swiftly and systematically. That was the easy part. He stroked the backs of his fingers very gently over the inner side, teasing himself further, making himself squirm against the thin, scratchy sheets. They needed washing, but Erwin had ordered they be put on a three-week rolling schedule, to conserve soap and, frankly, the laundresses' strength –

Levi stopped, clenching his other hand in the air as irritation flooded him. The laundry schedule was his pet aversion; it was a mess of Erwin's orders, Sokolova's anxieties, and Hartmann's illegible handwriting. He had not been consulted. 

He wriggled against the bed, trying to rid himself of the sudden knotting in his spine, and began to rub his dick more vigorously. All he needed was to get it over with and come so he could go down to dinner in the mess without this shrill tension that kept him constantly on edge. Gritting his teeth, he worked his hand faster, but he could already feel that it was no good. He slammed his fist into the mattress with a dull thud, emitting a snarl of frustration through his nostrils. 

Not for the first time, he wondered if any of the others were having the same problems. Jarrow didn't – he could hear Jarrow not having this problem about three nights a week through the shoddy connecting wall. Mike? Hange? It was difficult to imagine Mike getting aggravated over anything; he was so tall that life probably just streamed around him like he was a tree planted in the middle of a river. Hange's frothy energy was so omnipresent that Levi couldn't ever remember seeing them unwound. 

Erwin – there was no way _Erwin_ – 

Levi had decided to stop thinking about Erwin months ago, a few successful jerk-off sessions after he'd found he could no longer meet his eyes. It had taken several abortive attempts at masturbation before his mind stopped presenting him with fully-formed images of Erwin shirtless, Erwin wet, or naked except for gear –

– but Erwin probably didn't even –

That chilly calm. His hair, always neatly parted and flattened down. Even in the depths of winter, Erwin had only suffered a light pink glow across his cheekbones, whilst all the rest of them were red and chapped from the cold. Nothing really touched him. Only Levi, who was the closest of all of them, had ever seen him fierce with private emotion. Levi had seen him flushed with joy from flying, his hair dishevelled by the wind. 

He tried to imagine Erwin, as cool and remote as a star, touching his own cock, and failed. Someone else would have to do it for him; Levi, sprawled across his knees, leaning forward and tugging his trousers open while Erwin watched him with dispassionate interest, a hint of challenge in his expression. Levi would stare back, hardly glancing down at the sight of Erwin's dick sliding across his palm. 

Erwin would blink first, only for a second, when Levi rolled his thumb over the head of his cock and he inhaled slightly, closing his eyes briefly in pleasure. Levi would lean in further, and allow himself a narrow, triumphant smile. But Erwin wouldn't let him have the upper hand for long: he'd shift his thighs a little, maybe, forcing Levi off-balance and deeper into his lap, or he'd take Levi's chin between finger and thumb and kiss him roughly before pushing him away and settling back into his chair. Levi's hands would be busy working all this time, rubbing and squeezing at Erwin's huge dick, treasuring each sigh, each noise, each cut-off moan. 

And Erwin would stroke his hair, his fingers warm across his brow, and he'd say, deep and intimate, _Well done, Levi_ , and – 

"Levi!" 

Someone was banging on his door. 

"Levi, are you in?" 

He smacked his hand against the flat pillow and screwed his eyes shut. His hand was still on his cock, and slowly, reluctantly, he pulled it away. Every inch felt like agony. 

"Yeah, I'm here," he said, just loud enough for her to hear him. "Give me a minute." 

It took more than a minute for his erection to subside so far that he could button up his breeches in a fashion that looked relatively normal and didn't exacerbate the problem, but she waited patiently outside. 

Levi took another moment to compose his face, and then opened the door. "What is it, Rachel?"

"I thought we were going to get a drink?" She frowned at him, her lined brow deepening. "Did you forget?" 

"Yeah." He closed the door behind him, starting to walk down the corridor. The ache in his groin was starting to fade, but a drink wouldn't hurt. "You want to drop in at Guerin's?" 

"Will Captain Guerin mind? I don't want to – "

"She won't care." 

Guerin's room ostensibly had a lock, but in practice she never bothered with it. It was too stiff, and they needed the oil for gear. Levi dug out two mugs and half-filled them both from the gin still she'd constructed out of a couple of old glass demijohns and some tubing. 

"What got fucked up today?" he asked, handing one over to her. 

"Those – people – came back," Rachel said, sipping it gently with only the slightest of grimaces. "The Titan worshippers." 

"Oh, _them_ ," Levi said contemptuously. 

"All right, but you don't have to walk past them to get into the hospital. They were shouting things. Which of us should be offered up, that's what I mean." 

He shrugged. "It's four guys and a sign." 

"It's just not very nice." 

She contemplated her gin with a scrunched-up mouth, like it was poison. Levi knocked his back in one go, and stood up for another, which only seemed to bother her more. _Nurses._ "You'll make yourself sick like that." 

"I'm a Scout," he said. This usually sufficed for anyone outside the Corps, who regarded them all as do-si-doing with the Grim Reaper, but Rachel hunched her shoulders. 

"You'll probably outlive the rest of us, then," she said. "It's not Survey soldiers who get brought in." 

Levi was reminded, absurdly, of his first squad leader – what the hell was his name? – chastising Isabel for being too slow on the draw. _There are only two types of Scouts,_ he'd said. _The quick and the dead._ Well, they were all dead now. 

"It wouldn't be," he said aloud. She was still staring into her mug. "Come on, what's eating you?" 

"Bruno – my husband, I mean – started working as an orderly at the hospital," she said, draining her cup to the lees. "I'll have another, if that's all right." 

Levi apportioned her a rather larger dose this time. "Why?" 

"Hospital workers get extra rations." She pushed a loose lock of hair away from her face. "He keeps trying to talk to me." 

"So tell him you don't want to." 

"That's never worked," she said with acerbic candour. 

He hesitated, but no immediate answer came to him – except one. He only remembered his mother having one troublesome customer, although in adult hindsight there must have been many. He'd been kept out by the Captain, who had never been an actual captain, until he paid the requisite quarter of a mark to get into her room and scream at her for giving him dickrot. He'd hit her so hard she'd been deaf for days. Levi had pointed him out in a crowd to Kenny once, and Kenny had come back with all the guy's teeth wrapped in a bloodied handkerchief. He still wasn't really sure why he'd got so mad. 

"Sometimes I think it would make sense to go back to him," she said, with a quake in her voice that made Levi profoundly uncomfortable. "It's so much harder to be alone. Rations go further when there's two of you." 

"So why not?" 

"Well," she said, furrowing her brow even more. "I don't really want to. I know it's stupid." 

Levi knocked his mug against hers and finished off his second with a gulp. The alcohol was starting to have a real effect, warming his blood and slowing him down, so he pressed the back of his head against the cool metal of Guerin's bedstead. 

"Do what you want," he said, with sincere pessimism. "You probably don't have that much life left to do it in."

Rachel said: "I didn't have that much of a life before." 

  


* * *

  


"Are you ready?" 

Levi tightened the straps on the left-hand pannier where the postbag was secured, not looking up. It had been a couple of days since they'd spoken; he seemed to be having one of his periodic moods. Netty fretted a little, and he passed a soothing hand over her flank. "Coming." 

Erwin himself was already astride, his second horse attached to the first by a lengthy leading string. He always chose the most placid of mounts; none of his horses would dream of shying at a leaf blowing past their muzzle, or panicking at the sight of a Titan. This was a careful trade-off – nor did they honestly run fast enough when in peril without a hefty kick to the side. But Erwin had never been thrown or trampled. 

The gate was winched open with practiced smoothness, and they set off at a brisk trot. The first hurdle was clearing the earthworks: the half-kilometre between the wall and the perimeter was dotted with traps, tiger pits and explosives. Erwin had mapped it all out in his head, and only he and his captains knew the full extent of their defences. He was rationally aware that this amounted to baseless paranoia. 

"Hey, Erwin," Levi said, darting Netty and his second horse around a bald patch of dirt that concealed a freshly-buried mine. 

"What is it?" 

Levi let a silent minute go by for no reason Erwin could tell, before he glanced back and realised that he was struggling for something to say. Eventually, he came up with: "Read any good books lately?" 

Erwin smiled over his shoulder at him, bemused but pleased. It was unusual for him to take the initiative after three days or more of brooding. "I haven't had much time for leisure." 

"Did you even bring any with you?" 

"Only two." There hadn't been much room for extra weight. Erwin considered idly the possibility of starting up some kind of library, so that people could swap the books they did have. There had _been_ a library in Rosenwald, before the fall, but the roof had caved in during the late August storms and most of the books had been ruined. 

"Oh, yeah?" 

"Ah, one is poetry," said Erwin apologetically. He found history frustrating, and he'd suspected before they came that he'd have quite enough of that on his plate. He often passed his detective novels onto Levi, who liked to complain about the false-sounding thieves' cant they used, but he got little enough pleasure out of rereading them that he'd sold them all before the expedition began. 

"What about the other one?" 

The other one was an elderly leather-bound volume in a language Erwin did not know, in lettering that was at once familiar and unintelligible. It had been heavily annotated in cramped, faded handwriting, sometimes with more than two dozen words translated on a single page. He'd found it in a small bookshop in Shiganshina, shoved unceremoniously to the back of the shelf. The bookshop owner's granddaughter, forced to languish inside on a sunny day, had professed ignorance of both its existence and its price, and let him have it for a token penny. 

It was the only book Erwin had ever held in his hands that he was _sure_ predated the Walls. 

The few evenings he had to himself, therefore, he spent trying to decode it. It had quickly become clear that it was a story of some kind, rather than a factual account, but, oddly, this hadn't dampened his excitement. It became a sort of game, like a fiendishly complex crossword puzzle. 

One night, he'd found the word _walls_ written in over a word in tiny letters, and a thrill had shuddered down his spine. His desk lamp had burned itself out before he looked up again from the book, with pages and pages of scribbled cross-references a testament to – what, exactly? A book not even a tenth translated, which would take him a lifetime he didn't have to finish. It had been a self-indulgence he was punished for the next morning, struggling to keep his eyes open as he went through the daily orders. 

"It's something I'm still working on," he said, leaping a treacherous ha-ha in one bound. 

"What, like a diary?" Levi sounded confused. As well he might: Erwin rarely committed his thoughts to paper. 

"No, not at all. You can read it, if you'd like." Although Levi, who mouthed words as he read them, would probably find it even more hard-going than Erwin did. "I'd be interested to see what you made of it." 

"Sure." They had reached the barbed wire perimeter. It was designed to catch the ankles of the taller classes of Titans, and stood more than a metre and a half off the ground. Levi could walk under it without ducking his head, but Erwin lifted it so that he could lead his horses underneath as well, before dismounting himself. 

"No more conversation," he warned. "We don't want to attract any more attention than necessary." 

"Yeah, yeah, teach a dog to eat shit." 

Erwin snorted a laugh as he spurred his horse over the flat ground. Deforestation had left a devastated plain between them and Chenzen; the nearest patch of woodland was now two kilometres ahead, and they'd need more wood for the funeral pyres before the month was out. They could send a company of woodcutters out here, guarded by soldiers. It would undoubtedly result in more funerals. What was the other option? Mass graves? Throw the bodies in the river? Either seemed designed to destroy every last shred of the morale they'd carefully nurtured. The bonfires blazed morning, noon and night as it was. 

Levi edged ahead of him, easing Netty into a swift canter. He was straight-backed and alert this morning, constantly scanning the horizon for signs of movement. They continued on in peace and silence – not the same thing – for an hour, until the ravaged lands began to blossom again. Someone had planted flowerbeds along the path, and in the absence of the gardener the marigolds had colonised the whole of the dell. It would have been their despair, but Erwin felt a smile tugging at his lips even as he and Levi trampled fetlock-deep through the sea of yellow flowers. 

"I can see why you like playing courier," he murmured. 

"Shut up, moron," said Levi. 

They covered a great deal of ground in the second hour, over sweeter territory than Erwin had had the pleasure of seeing in some time. It wasn't exactly like being outside the Walls, where one was faced with endless possibility, but this was as good as it was going to get for the foreseeable future. Erwin resolved to enjoy it. 

In front, Netty was slowing down, tired from her exertion. Erwin glanced at Levi, who was frowning, and pricked up his ears. He listened for something just on the edge of sound, something so faint that even Levi's quick hearing was an uncertain guide, and picked up a noise of soft snuffling. He caught Levi's eye and nodded, touching his right ear to confirm the other's surmise. _Just south-east of us._

Levi gave a decisive jerk of his head, and then kicked Netty into a gallop. Erwin followed suit and for several long minutes there was nothing but the thunder of hooves on the dirt road and the wind burning his cheeks. But running was fruitless; he knew even before the Titan rounded the crest of the hill that it was coming straight for them. 

It was tall and pot-bellied, with a shock of red hair that reminded Erwin of Mike in his early teens. There were dark blotches spattered across its nose – freckles, Erwin thought, on a small, ordinary face. It stomped over the ground with the unsteady gait of a fuming toddler, each step halting but heavy. 

"We'll do a Siegfried cross," he said, enunciating clearly so that Levi could hear him. "Change horses!" 

Both Netty and Erwin's own horse were too tired after a lengthy run for the punishing gallop a Siegfried cross required. Erwin slowed his pair to a halt and dismounted, clambering onto his secondary horse as quickly as he could and slashing the leading string. Levi didn't bother: he raised himself in the saddle and sprang into a crouch on Netty's back before vaulting easily into the saddle of his other mount. Erwin half-cried out a warning, lurching forward to catch him, but Levi was already lodging his feet firmly in the stirrups and cutting his own leading string. 

Erwin took a deep breath. "Let's go." 

He drove his horse into a brutal gallop, dodging between the Titan's feet as Levi danced around it in a circle, waiting for the best opening. Erwin wheeled hard and weaved his way through its legs again, crushing its little toe. He heard the report of Levi's gear firing, and the squelch of the anchor biting into the Titan's weak flesh, but he forced himself to concentrate on evading its stamping feet. 

On his fifth pass, he risked a glance at Levi, who was scaling the Titan's back with ease, using his anchors to haul himself upwards in a strange-looking reversal of abseiling, but one glimpse was all he could allow himself. On his sixth time running the gauntlet, digging his spurs in hard, he slashed at the tendon in the Titan's left ankle. It roared with pain, hunching its shoulders instinctively, and Levi took the opportunity to sprint up its spine, hacking mercilessly downwards as he reached the nape. Erwin just barely skidded out of danger as it came crashing down. 

"Good work," he said as Levi leapt from the Titan's neck, whistling for his horse. "But leave out the trick riding next time." 

"It was quicker." Both Netty and the other horse responded, and Levi regretfully climbed onto the latter's back, sparing only a pat for Netty. 

"It's not like you to show off," Erwin said waspishly. He was uncertain why Levi's stunt had irritated him so much; it was the sort of hare-brained exploit Survey Corps soldiers engaged in all the time. Hange could do handstands in the saddle – everyone had at least one. "You could have broken your neck." 

"I didn't." 

Erwin made no reply to this irrelevant rebuttal, and spurred his mount quicker, with no consideration for how tired it must already be. Chenzen was only an hour's ride beyond, but they hit the perimeter much earlier. 

The barbed tripwire was in place here as well – this thanks to Levi, who had carried it from Rosenwald when it proved impossible to manufacture in Chenzen. Even as they approached it, a Survey Corps soldier slithered down the watchtower's ladder to greet them. Wood was scarcer here: the frame was made of oak, but the outpost's skin was nothing but animal hide stitched together into a mighty canvas. It was probably rather warmer in the rain. 

"We'll need assistance getting to the gate," Erwin said to him. "Who's been on watch the longest?" 

"I have, sir! Twenty-six hours, sir." 

Erwin fought not to react, and smiled instead. "Then you guide us, please. You can go off shift after that." 

"Erwin – "

"Thank you, Levi." 

The soldier was actually relatively alert, as it turned out – Erwin assumed they napped in shifts up in the crow's nest – and led them competently enough through Chenzen's own net of traps. There was a pretty line of explosives every eight metres; the one thing Chenzen didn't lack was saltpetre. The most major difference between Chenzen's perimeter and Rosenwald's, aside from being twice the acreage, was that Chenzen had put its limited supply of wood to better use: dotted around the area were thick poles the size of tree trunks planted deeply in the earth. They all showed the tell-tale signs of 3DMG wear and tear: the pitting where anchors had been embedded and then wrenched out; the unique shredding of bark where wire had wrapped around it. 

"You get a lot of use out of them?" Erwin asked, nodding in their direction. 

"About twice a day, sir." The soldier frowned a little. "It's been quiet lately, though." 

"For us, too." Beside him, Levi was entirely silent. Erwin shot him a brief, assessing glance. He had the uncanny feeling that Levi understood perfectly his thoughts on the subject, although he had never spoken them aloud. 

Hange was already at the gate to greet them, their bright, sparky energy seeming to lift Levi's spirits a little. Erwin sent the soldier off with a commendation to his squad leader and an order to bed down for the next four hours, and received a thrilled salute in exchange. 

"Awww, you got him all excited," said Hange. They were still hanging off Levi's neck, to which he submitted with bad grace. "He'll be insufferable for days." 

"Well, anything I can do to improve morale," said Erwin. "Where's Mike?" 

Mike's office, as it turned out, was a small marquee tent near the centre of town. He was sitting outside it when they arrived, his eyes closed and his face upturned towards the sun. 

"Good afternoon," Erwin said. Mike tilted his head forward, blinking. His face fell into new lines, so deep they might have been carved from teak, and the slant of his shoulders sagged. He looked exhausted, much more than any of Erwin's other captains did. 

"Afternoon," he said, the warmth of his voice banishing Erwin's sudden doubt. 

"It's good to see you." 

"You look like shit on a sunny pavement," said Levi. "What the fuck?" 

"Thanks for bringing it up in front of my most senior officer," Mike said, lazily dismissive. 

"I don't think I count for these purposes," said Hange, hustling them all inside. "Chop, chop! Important, classified things to discuss!" 

"It's not the most private location in the world," Mike said, holding the tent flap open for them, "but it's home." 

The marquee provided some much-needed shade as Hange found chairs and dragged them over to the desk. Mike collected up his notes into a messy heap and, in deference to Levi's sensibilities, got rid of the mugs lining the edge except for one which was being used as a paperweight. 

"What news is there from the capital?" 

"So-so," Erwin said. "No chance of our being recalled just yet. I had a letter from Nile last week; the Wallists are drunk on success." Pastor Gottlieb had led a special service of thanksgiving in the Cathedral and made everyone lie prone on the cold flagstones. Marie, who was pregnant again, had not enjoyed it. But hundreds had attended; the expedition was still wildly popular. Perhaps Erwin was merely confused by this newfound esteem: perhaps everyone felt this bone-deep revulsion at celebrity. He wondered if they would still be so much in favour if they understood the cost of the reclamation. He wondered if, deep down, they did, and that was _why_ it met with such blind approval. 

"Ah, well," said Mike, with agreeable resignation. "How is Nile, anyway?" 

"About as happy as a pig in clover." Except for his dealings with Commander Voss, of course. 

"Pig's the right word," said Levi. 

Mike waved a vague hand. "Nile's not so bad, you know. You could try being a bit nicer to him." 

"He arrested me once," Levi said, his tone flat. "Tell me more about how he's not so bad." 

"You got caught?" Hange leaned forward, their eyes mockingly wide. Erwin had read Nile's report on the arrest after he first saw Levi, who had been using gear to skim the air an inch from the pavement. Nile's mistake had been allowing Levi to "fall down the stairs"; what this had meant in practice was that Nile had let go of him.

" _No_ ," Levi said, goaded. "Farlan broke his wrist." 

"So you went back for him? What did you tell them when they asked for your surname?" 

"Hange," said Erwin. Like a bead of black ink dropping into a glass of clear water, the conversation rippled, and then stilled. 

"I was just curious," Hange said after a moment. 

"Direct it elsewhere," said Erwin. "How are things in Chenzen?" 

"Pretty much the same as they were last time you came," Mike said, scratching his nose. "We're trying to build up the walls a bit more, but it's slow going." 

"As soon as we get somewhere, a Titan breaks through and smashes it up," Hange said, kicking back in their chair. "We don't have the stone to do it properly, and bricks shatter like billy-o. I thought maybe we could mix something into the clay to make it stronger – "

"But all the bricklayers told 'em to go to hell," Mike finished, a grin tugging at his lips. 

"There's no spirit of scientific enquiry in this town." 

"Fucking tragic," said Levi. He seemed to have relaxed again after Hange's abortive interrogation. "Can't imagine why they didn't want a crazy asshole like you around." 

"That was hurtful," said Hange. 

In spite of everything, Erwin felt himself smiling at them. That was almost the problem, in a way, with human ties: nothing felt quite so bad as it should when you were surrounded by people who would fight each other for the chance to take up your burdens. 

There was a crash outside in the distance. The noise was faint enough, yet he pricked up his ears. 

"I think you've got a Titan attack now," he said. 

"It's been quiet lately," said Mike. "I thought it was weird – "

They looked at each other for a second that stretched across years. Then Erwin was tearing out of the tent, all three of them on his heels, and running for the east wall. The people they pushed through were milling around in a crowd, seeming uncertain of what to do. Mike must have drilled them, where were the team leaders? 

He caught sight of a familiar soldier running towards them, the Scout who'd led them through the perimeter, followed shortly by his captain. 

"How many?" Erwin demanded. 

The soldier mouthed at him fleetingly, his jaw opening and closing without sound. After a moment, Erwin realised that he could not speak. 

"Forty," said the captain behind him. She hesitated, as if she'd only just heard her own words spilling out of her mouth. "At least – it was forty when I left." 


	7. Through Smoke and Fire and Shot and Shell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chenzen is overwhelmed by a Titan attack.

Mike was rapping out orders on the double. "Hoist the cannon! Get the signallers to the top of the wall! I want every soldier who can walk in the air – "

"Mike," said Erwin quietly. 

The day had begun hot: hot and muggy; hot and oppressive and hateful to ride through. Now the mercurial weather was turning against them. The clouds had fused together in an angry, dark-grey mass, blocking out the light of the sun. Even as Erwin looked up, the first rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. 

"We should have brought oilskins," he said. "I'm sorry, Levi." 

"I'll live," Levi said. 

"That's reassuring," said Erwin. "Thank you. Mike, are you using loose gunpowder or cartridges?" 

"Cartridges," Mike said. "The Garrison make 'em up during off-hours." 

"Well, that's something. Let's move." 

The east wall was a hotchpotch of construction, with three metres of brickwork atop six metres of Shiganshina stone. The brick was already useless – one of the fourteen-metre Titans pawing at the wall had already punched straight through it, leaving nine dead humans at the bottom. Levi anchored off the inside of the wall and swung himself high in the air. The fatter of the fourteen-metres clutched uselessly at the empty sky where he'd been seconds before, while the other screamed low and wild in its throat. Levi was already spiralling into a dive, scoring a long, deep cut into its spine. 

"No good!" Erwin shouted, taking the inside stairs up to the cannon tracks two in one stride. Hange and Mike beat him there, deploying gear to make it up in record time. _Now of all times, don't_ waste gas. Erwin bit his tongue instead of speaking, seizing the box of cartridges from a trooper's arms. "Set up a supply chain! Garrison squads, form up! We need three of you loading each cannon, everyone else make sure they have everything they need!" 

The first of the fourteen-metres was snuffling at the brickwork it hadn't already destroyed, an island of red clay no larger than Erwin's cupboard of an office in Rosenwald. Its nose had been damaged by head-butting the wall, flattened against the vast expanse of its face. Erwin cast an anguished look at the sky, ignoring the warning drops of rain against his cheeks. " _Levi!_ "

Levi, thankfully, was coming in for a second crack even as Erwin bellowed his name. This time he didn't miss, hacking a substantial chunk from the Titan's nape and spraying everyone in the vicinity with its boiling blood. A moment later, and they would have lost at least one of their meagre cannon, if not both. He thought, _miracles_ , and went back to prying the lid off the crate without a crowbar. A hefty kick proved more effective than perseverance, revealing the cartridges packed inside. 

Erwin nearly swore. 

" _Cardboard?_ " Levi demanded, landing lightly beside him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" 

"Leave it," Erwin bit out, lowering his voice. "There's a brass shortage, what else could they use? I need you to take out the other fourteen-metre." 

Levi made no reply but Erwin heard the slap of his boots against the wet brick, running, and then the distinctive snap-hiss of his gear. He tore off his uniform jacket and spread it over the cartridges before they could get too damp. "Open all the other boxes," he ordered, "but leave the lids on until they're required." 

A shot rang out, taking the head off a seven-metre approaching the wall. The gunner let out a cry of satisfaction that wobbled into a scream as the other fourteen-metre swept him off the edge, biting off his head and shoulders with huge, slate teeth. Thank heaven, Erwin thought, it didn't hit the gun. Another Garrison trooper was already sprinting forward to take his place. 

Levi came in too fast from an unsuccessful pass over the fourteen-metre and ended up skidding to a halt in front of Erwin. "I need a red rag." 

"Mike," Erwin said, but when he looked for him he found him out in the field, using what was left of the 3DMG posts to slash away at one of the smaller Titans. Hange was on the ground, riding bareback and laying out a new tripwire. "All right, let's go." 

He launched himself from the edge of the wall, sailing right past the end of the fourteen-metre's aquiline nose. It howled and snapped its teeth, bringing a massive hand up to snatch at him, like a monstrous kitten driven mad by a dangling string. He turned a complete somersault, dodging the blast of foul air that hissed from its nostrils, and straightened into a steep dive. The wind rushed past his face, warm and damp, and he wrenched his body sideways as he landed in the dirt, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

Erwin lay there, stunned, until a sudden roar from above him alerted him to the Titan's death. Even then, he could barely summon the strength to roll out of the way of its sudden collapse; the steam scalded his face as he crawled out from beneath its rotting arm. He forced himself to his feet, the air burning his lungs with each gulp. His entire right side felt like it was bleeding, but when he looked it was only badly scraped. He stared at it uncomprehendingly, certain that something was wrong. 

Levi dropped down beside him again. "You all right?" 

"I – yes, I think so." 

"Get moving, then, moron. You can worry about your shirt later." 

Ah, yes, that was it. Erwin ripped away the remains of his right sleeve, which was now useless even for bandages, and turned away from the wall to scan the battlefield. If he'd had his jacket on, he'd be in better shape; it would have taken the brunt of the damage. "I want you to try and pick off the bigger Titans towards the sides of the mob. Let the cannon take care of the smaller classes." 

"Got it. You going back up the wall?" 

Erwin grimaced. "It doesn't seem worth the gas. The Garrison have it in hand." 

Levi made as if to go; then, strangely, he hesitated. "If you need me, just yell, okay?" 

As if to answer him, both the cannon rang out in the same moment, deafening, followed shortly by another rumble of thunder. All around them, people were screaming in terror or rage or just to make themselves heard above the din. 

"I'll do my best," said Erwin, and the corner of Levi's mouth twisted upwards. 

"Thanks. I guess." 

And then he was off, hurtling through the air like a musket ball, and Erwin darted round the tiger pit, anchoring off one of the remaining 3DMG poles and heading for Mike. There was no way of taking a decent head count from this vantage point; before he'd fallen he'd estimated nearly a hundred Titans. They were still coming from the east. Why the east? 

He reached him just as Mike was cutting savagely into a four-metre Titan's nape; it crumpled to its knobbly knees as they landed on the ground. 

"You need to go back to the city and organise an evacuation," Erwin told him. Mike balked immediately, and Erwin grabbed his arm, digging his fingers in. "Listen to me! The rest of us will stall them here while you take as many civilians as you can and retreat to Rosenwald." 

Mike shook his head firmly. "That'll take hours." 

"I want them ready for when the east wall breaks," said Erwin. 

"It won't break." 

Erwin ignored this, even though Mike's voice was as deep and confident as ever. " _Don't_ fail me." 

He took off without looking back, knowing that Mike would obey his orders. There were so many Titans that he found himself dodging through a forest of toes and feet. He slashed at two or three tendons, but all it did was blunt the edges of his blades; the Titans, preoccupied with batting at the soldiers near their eyes, barely noticed the damage. 

"Hange!" he shouted. "Hange!" 

Hange galloped past him, pulled up sharply and then wheeled round. "Erwin!" 

He vaulted onto the horse's back behind them, landing harder than his abused ribs could really bear. "Mike's headed back to form up the evacuation. We're holding the Titans here until he's ready to move out." 

"Erwin, are you mad? Rosenwald can't hold another fifty thousand people!" 

"If we wait much longer, it won't have to," Erwin said. 

"Fuck." Hange gazed around at the torn-up grass, the uprooted 3DMG poles and the battered wall. There were dead bodies everywhere, blood and brains smeared over the ground; their horse was snorting and uneasily avoiding them. "Fuck. How long have we been out here?" 

"About forty minutes." 

Hange dug their heels into their horse's sides, forcing the mare to gallop faster. She was already sweating heavily; Hange was merciless. "Where's Levi?" 

"He was alive ten minutes ago," Erwin said. The cannons rang out in unison; the Garrison had settled into a strong rhythm. He tried not to think about how long a ten minutes it had been. 

"Shit, shit, shit." Hange seemed to have no real plan for where they were riding to; it was only imperative that they keep moving. "Do you want me to put you back on – well, okay, what's left of the wall?" 

"Do it," Erwin said. She was already turning their mount, narrowly evading a huge, meaty foot. 

The explosion that burst from the platform atop the wall was worse than any Erwin had ever heard, the horrendous boom flaring across the sky like ball lightning and searing his ears. Something whipped past his cheek; he touched his face and found that he really was bleeding this time. 

"The cannon," he said, strangled. He fired off his anchor at the wall and scaled it in under a minute, only just clearing the predations of a three-metre Titan, pot-bellied and gnawing at the wall as if it were a huge rusk. He swung himself onto the island of brickwork and skidded, his left foot sliding out from under him as he flailed desperately for balance. It was to no avail; he hit the rough clay, shredding his palms and jolting his bruised ribs badly. His boot had slipped on the soft part of someone's belly, slimy and bloody. Impossible to tell, now, what kind of offal it was meant to be. 

"Right," he said, to nobody. He was the only living human being on the platform. All the others had been killed in the explosion: the crew of the gun that exploded, the soldiers loading the other cannon, even the whole supply chain of box-openers and crate-movers. He couldn't remember how many there'd been. 

The other gun. _The other gun._

He scrambled over to it, ignoring the slipperiness beneath his feet, but the carriage was wrecked, in a dozen pieces, and the cannon itself had a hairline crack all the way down the bore. Erwin gave vent to his emotions in a vicious kick, which achieved nothing. Giving way to anger was pointless, now of all times. 

The gun's barrel was boiling hot and he couldn't touch it with his bare hands. Very well. Erwin turned his attention to clearing the platform of corpses, or at least parts of corpses, throwing them off the wall in a grisly attempt to distract the Titans. It worked once or twice, hurling them down directly into the Titans' upturned faces, buying his soldiers valuable seconds in which to strike hard at the nape. Slowly but surely, they were trying to build a gap between the Titans and the wall. 

"Form a perimeter!" Erwin barked, but his voice came out hoarse and whispery. He coughed to clear his throat, and pain stabbed through his chest. He tried again. "Form a perimeter! I want three metres of space between me and the first Titan!" 

Levi flashed past, flying so fast that he was gone in the blink of an eye. He hooked into the hollow of a nine-metre's throat, close to where its jugular vein should be and out of the range of its snapping jaws, and then made a controlled drop to cut off its wrist as it raised a terrified soldier to its lips. He was already spinning in the air as the hand clutching the soldier fell, sprinting up what was left of its arm and anchoring off the joint between collarbone and shoulder in order to hit its nape. Erwin could not but admire his strict economy of movement; Levi's style, over the two years Erwin had known him, had sharpened from his early untutored showiness into an austere, brilliant severity. 

He felt for his spyglass on his belt and found it unbroken from his fall. Why the _east_? Secure in the knowledge that, for now, Levi had his back, he trained the telescope on the western wall. There were people swarming around there, but it was – if not peaceful – at least untouched by the Titans. Was there something here on the east side that attracted them? Did Titans want things – specific things? He frowned, and focused on the blond head of hair towering above the rest: Mike was gesturing widely down on the ground, holding tight to the reins of his horse. The Garrison soldiers around him were busy organising the civilians into blocks of twenty or thirty. Erwin could see people scurrying to retrieve packs – of what, food? Medical supplies? _Don't waste time._ They'd be leaving through the south-western gate, where Erwin and Levi had entered an hour ago. There was one obvious route to Rosenwald, the shortest – 

Erwin lowered the spyglass and shut it with dull, stupid hands, a sudden chill flooding him. 

Hange dropped onto the brickwork platform with a light thud, wiping the sweat from their eyes with their fingers still locked around their triggers. "How's the evacuation coming? We can't hold them off much longer." 

"They're about to leave. Do you have a flare?" 

"Only a black one." 

"That will do." Erwin fitted it into the mechanism of the wheel-lock pistol and fired it straight up. After a short pause, he saw the mass of civilians began to move with the terrifying slowness of an incipient landslide. 

Hange was watching them, too. "A lot of people will die en route," they said. "Are you really sure about this?" 

"It's much worse than that," Erwin said, staring out at the throng. "We're being herded." 

He forced himself to turn away and face the slaughterhouse to the east. There was another wave of Titans approaching from a kilometre away, at least twenty or thirty. "Hange, where do you keep spare gas and blades? We need to set up a forward supply base here and just behind the wall. There's still some scaffolding that hasn't been smashed up, we'll use that." 

"Herded? What do you mean?" Hange's attention was diverted immediately from the refugee train. They seized Erwin's arm by the crook of the elbow. "Are we assuming sentience? You think this was a co-ordinated attack?" 

"Hange." 

"The way Shiganshina went down, it seemed possible that they're capable of some kind of basic tactical thinking, but – "

"Hange, the spare blades and gas. Where are they?" 

"Second house on the left coming out of the eastern stable," said Hange, shaking off their reverie. "Come on, I'll show you." 

Erwin abseiled down what remained of the wall, his anchors crumbling some of the mortar in a thin mist. Hange followed a step behind, before overtaking him on the flat run over the cobbled streets. The house they were using for storage was a small up-and-down at the end of a terrace, with a garden path choked with dead weeds; too small and unused for comfort. 

"How many are there?" he asked tersely as they pelted across the dried-up garden. 

"Not enough," they said briefly. 

Erwin tried the door handle, but it was locked and only rattled in his hand. He let out a hiss of air through his teeth, feeling a wave of frustration flood through him. 

"What if we break – "

He launched himself at the door, shoulder first, and felt the lock splinter with grim satisfaction. A second slam broke it open, forcing it half off its hinges. 

"I was gonna say we could break the window, but this'll do," Hange said. 

"Glass shards," said Erwin, his breathing slightly too laboured. Each inhale dragged on his ribs, the momentary adrenaline dissipating. He was beginning to feel rather foolish, but that wasn't important right now. He ran inside, ducking immediately into the living room, where the crates were stacked high above his reach. 

"This room should have blades," said Hange. "I'll get a stepladder." 

They darted out into the hallway while Erwin shoved the room's chairs out of the way, clearing some space on the floor. He was going to have to recruit anyone who could be spared to move the boxes out to the wall. He could not remember how many soldiers there were fighting outside. An hour ago there must have been at least one hundred and fifty, most of them Garrison troops. Mike would have anyone who had been on the south and western sides of the town to help him through the gate, which must be – what, another hundred? 

Hange raced through the doorway, lugging a hefty stepladder behind them. Brushing away his calculations, Erwin helped them to set it up, a task which would probably have gone quicker if he hadn't tried. He was lifting the first crate down when a thunderous crash sounded through the monumental din, assaulting his ears. He felt the step vibrate beneath him, forcing him to clutch at the bar, and Hange stumbled slightly, thrown off-balance. 

"What the hell was that?" 

"The wall," Erwin said. He'd meant it to sound like a calm certainty, but his voice cracked and he swallowed hard. "Quickly, Hange. We need to get blades and gas ready for anyone who survived." 

"It can't be the wall," Hange said. Their voice was shaking, but their hands knew better and were already levering a crowbar underneath the crate's lid. "We've worked hard on that wall." 

"It's gone," said Erwin, heaving another box into their arms. He had recovered, he thought. He sounded completely composed. "Our priority now is to slow down the Titans in the town as long as possible in order to protect the rear of the refugee train." 

"If the wall's down, then everyone outside it must be dead," said Hange, following their nightmarish train of thought. "Reynaud – Garibaldi – _Levi_ – "

"I _know_ , Hange!" Erwin snarled, and instantly snapped his mouth shut, his teeth clacking together painfully. 

"I know," he went on in a steadier tone. "It's very likely. Nevertheless." 

"I'll go and find some red flares," said Hange, their jaw working as they collected themselves. "So Mike knows what happened." 

"Good idea." 

He lifted down another four boxes before judging that adequate for refills even if Hange was wrong and they were all still alive. The next room would have gas cylinders. Even Levi would need a gas refill after a lengthy battle like that – he was never _wasteful_ –

It occurred to him what an inadequate tribute that was, and he swallowed again, forcing down a dry, painful blockage in his throat. 

The canister crates weren't stacked so stupidly high, so he abandoned the stepladder and began taking them down one by one to pry them open with Hange's crowbar. One of the lids splintered in half rather than be prised, and he pulled his arm back to smash it hard with the jemmy. 

When Hange returned, he sent them up to the roof to fire off a green flare and attract any soldiers in need of supplies. Distractedly, he thought of the stables nearby – could they saddle horses? How much of the equipment could they strap to the panniers without weighing the horse down to a snail's pace? The Survey Corps mares were bred for strength and speed, but they had their limits. 

He pushed a lock of hair out of his face, noticing without surprise that it was drenched with sweat and something stickier. _I need to get up on the roof._ He might be swept off by a Titan, but there was no way he could formulate a half-decent plan without surveying the field first. 

The green smoke was still hanging in the air when he hit the red tile. Hange nodded to him as he joined them by the chimney pot. "That's the last we're gonna be able to send up for a while, Erwin. I think the heavens are about to open." 

Even as they spoke, the spitting rain began to gather pace. Erwin retrieved his spyglass and trained it on the south-western gate. They couldn't be more than halfway through: there were thousands of people all pushing and shoving at each other in their haste to get outside the town walls. As he watched, two or three went down like felled trees and disappeared entirely within seconds, trampled by the vast, inexorable multitude. He turned his back on them, focusing instead on the east wall. 

"It's almost completely demolished," he said grimly. What little remained of it was enveloped in a cloud of off-white lime mixed with sand and who knew what else, from the rising dust of the wrecked mortar. Through this murky veil, he could just make out the huge, misshapen bodies of Titans crawling relentlessly forward. And swiftly, miraculously, five – _five_ – soldiers emerging from the haze, handkerchiefs tied over their faces. 

"OVER HERE!" he roared at the top of his voice. It burned his lungs – it hurt to breathe now – but it was worth it. Hange, thankfully, took up the cry. "OVER HERE!" 

The squad – a whole squad – landed on the roof, running towards them. They were covered in the dust from the mortar cloud, white from head to foot and masked with large kerchiefs. Erwin could barely tell who any of them were; it was only the quick, familiar step he recognised. He made a noise in his throat, hardly able to prevent himself, but managed to refrain from calling out Levi's name until he was closer and it seemed more reasonable. 

"Levi," he said in his normal speaking voice, sounding cool and collected. "And Captain Reynaud. I'm very glad to see you both." 

"And you, Commander," Reynaud said, grinning wildly as he whipped off his makeshift gas mask. Levi said nothing, only staring at Erwin. His grey eyes were unusually wide, and reddened by the lime, but the handkerchief concealing his nose and mouth rendered him even more opaque than he was any other day of the week. 

"There's fresh equipment inside," Erwin said. "Let's go. Bring as much of it as you can to the stables and we'll saddle up." 

The others made the jump down into the garden without hesitation, but Levi hung back. Surprised, Erwin paused, too. 

"You're not dead, then," said Levi. He didn't seem to care that the heavy rain was smearing the lime more thickly across his hair and skin; he only kept looking at Erwin as if he wasn't sure he was really there. 

"No," Erwin said quietly. "I'm sorry if I gave you any concern." 

Levi uttered a sneering noise, but he didn't reply before hooking into a gap between tiles and descending right onto the front step. Erwin watched him go before taking his spyglass out for one last attempt at seeing what was going on with the refugee train. It was useless; the increasing deluge had rendered visibility far too poor. 

Giving it up as a bad job, he joined them in hauling the equipment across the rooftops to the stable courtyard. They lost one box of blades when a seven-metre with a cascading beard of wiry, matted black hair took an unwanted interest in one of Reynaud's Garrison soldiers, snatching eagerly at her legs. She leapt two metres into the air, abandoning the crate to smash on the pavement two storeys below. The flagstones shattered on impact and the swords spilled everywhere. 

" _Fuck!_ " Reynaud yelled, his face white, and the Garrison trooper bit her fist in fury and mortification. 

"Keep going!" Erwin hollered at them both; she looked down at the blades, tempted, but the black-bearded seven-metre made another swipe at her ankles, destroying the house's cast-iron pipes, and she took a running jump to a place of greater safety. 

A crate of gas cylinders was the next casualty, courtesy of Hange's over-confident leap across an alley not quite as narrow as they thought. That one they all deserted without a moment of vacillation; a drop like that would crush the canisters, leaving them vulnerable to silent leaks. Erwin had been caught short once himself; never again. 

There was already a Titan at the stables, a four-metre, peering in over the low roofs at the funny four-legged animals with childlike curiosity. Erwin didn't have to pause for a second; as soon as he registered the problem, Levi was shooting past him on noiseless feet to take care of it. They landed one by one in the courtyard, the stink of decaying Titan flesh overhead. 

"Load up the horses and get them on a string," Erwin said briskly. "Levi will be the only rider for the first stretch." 

"What?" Reynaud said, recoiling as if Erwin had presented him with orders to eat a frog. 

"Levi will be acting as bait," said Erwin, deciding that candour was the better part of his immediate strategy. "We need to lead as many Titans as we can away from the civilian convoy. He'll lure them into a bottleneck, at which point the rest of us will attack. I'll need your advice on a good ambush site – "

"Are you m-mad?" Reynaud demanded, his voice trembling. He was very nearly on the verge of tears. Erwin tensed. "We'll die doing it; everyone will. Oh, fuck, what's the use? There's nothing we can do – "

"Oskar," Erwin said, taking him firmly by the shoulders. Reynaud blinked up at him, a few inches shorter. "Of course there's something you can do. There always is. The only question is whether or not you do it." 

Reynaud's gaze was glassy and frightened. His mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish. Erwin answered the confusion in his face. "Go and open all the stalls so the horses can escape. There's no reason why they should perish, however dire the situation." 

"They'll _starve_ ," Reynaud said automatically, and then seemed to hear himself. "No, I – I suppose they won't, will they?" 

"They're Survey Corps horses," Erwin told him, warm and reassuring. "They can look after themselves." 

"Right," Reynaud said, bringing a hand up to rub at his nose. "Right, yes. I'll go and do that." 

"Market Street's a good place for it," Hange said in an undertone. "It looks wider than it is; they're always trying to squeeze a dozen more merchants in there than it can actually fit." 

"Thank you," he said. "Levi?" 

"I won't be able to gallop flat-out if I'm trying to control six horses on a string." 

"Go as fast as you can, then, and leave the rest to us." 

"Understood." 

Erwin wanted to call after him as he turned away – had he actually understood? Did he have any suggestions to offer? – but he recognised it as nothing but a base compulsion to prolong the moment just in case. It was a streak of insecurity he'd never quite been able to purge. 

Levi was vaulting into the saddle as Erwin anchored up onto the low roof. The red tiles were wet and slippery from the downpour, forcing him to slow down more than they could really afford. Market Street was further away than he'd like, following Hange's shouted instructions, and any delays could be fatal to the rider below. 

" _Ignore_ it!" he hollered at Reynaud, who was skidding past the black-bearded seven metre and seemed about to wheel round and attack. Reynaud jumped, and his split-second of hesitation saved his life; the black-bearded Titan overshot its petulant clawing at the rooftop and Reynaud was able to dodge round it. "Not _now_!"

That was one of the advantages of fighting Titans over fighting humans: they were few, and Erwin counted every one of them twice. But a Titan wouldn't understand the words coming out of your mouth even if you screamed them in its ear; no Titan could divine Erwin's strategy from a bellowed warning. They had no tactical acumen –

Erwin thought of the smashed wall, so much gritty dust and dead soldiers now, and clicked his jaw shut. 

They reached Market Street finally, _finally_ , and Erwin crouched on the north side with Hange and one of the Garrison soldiers while Reynaud took the other two across the gap. They secreted themselves behind a chimney stack from which they had a strong vantage point to look down into the street. The chimney was still warm as Erwin flattened himself against it; what had the occupants been doing when they were forced to abandon the house? Preparing an early dinner? Why else would you waste fuel on a fire in summer? The heat was turning his soaked uniform uncomfortably humid, the heavy cotton duck of his trousers clinging damply to his skin. He should have worn proper riding leathers. _Complacency._ Where was Levi? 

There. 

Far below, Levi was galloping down Market Street as if all the devils in hell were after him, his laden-down string of horses struggling to keep up with his pace. He was drawing both his swords, using one to slash the lead. He couldn't sustain that speed for much longer, Erwin thought, already moving to the edge to calculate the best trajectory for his first swing. Twenty more metres – fifteen – ten – 

The black-bearded Titan was bent low to the ground, practically crawling. It swiped hard at Levi, its fingertips catching the horse's ankles. Levi went flying at an awkward, ugly angle that was nothing like Erwin had ever seen from him before, not even his first week of training. Erwin didn't wait to see him hit the wall. 

He launched ten seconds too early and was forced into an ungainly spin in mid-air to come down on the black-bearded Titan's neck, hacking out a gory chunk of flesh. The hot blood spurted out all over his hands and face, scalding his skin, but he couldn't pause to wipe it off. It clung to his hair and eyelashes, kept moist by the pounding rain. He was already flying again, anchoring off the eaves of the butcher's shop and aiming for the next one. There were twelve or thirteen Titans, pushing and shoving at each other in an attempt to make space in the narrow street; not the haul Erwin had wanted, for which he had wasted his best soldier. _Stupid_ , he thought, _stupid, being the fastest jockey wasn't the important part. Next time –_

Near him, a woman was screaming. The Garrison soldier who had been on his side of the road was caught in the grip of a red-headed four-metre with a puffy, bloated face. Its jaw unhinged as it drew her into its mouth, and Erwin chopped savagely at the exposed muscles until it dropped open and could not close. She scrambled out of its slack jaws, clambering up the cliff of its face and driving her blade into its eye, which broke open with a loud squelch. Erwin struck it down while it was distracted, roaring in agony. 

With a horrendous effort, he leaped onto the closest rooftop, his ribs protesting every inch. They were down to nine Titans, he noticed, but one of the other Garrison soldiers was dead on the ground, or, well, half of him was. He glanced over his shoulder towards the south-west, sighting the vestiges of a dampened attempt to get off several purple signal flares. There was some kind of emergency at the tail end of the civilian train…

He could guess what it was. He looked back at Market Street, scanning the battle for information. Eight Titans left. Eight Titans, and –

Levi was running down the street towards the fray. His gear seemed to be intact, but he wasn't trying to launch; instead he skidded around the foot of a nine-metre with teeth like mossy, yellowed tombstones and cut deep into the tendon at the back of its ankle. It howled, falling to one knee, and Levi chose then to swing into the air and slice out its nape. 

Erwin found his voice. "Soldiers, retreat! Find your horses and rendezvous with the main party!" 

"What?" Levi landed next to him with a harder thud than usual. "I damn near break my neck getting them here and now we just run for it?" 

Startled at this unexpected attack, Erwin turned his head sharply. Levi was panting slightly from exertion, the lime dust still streaked through his dark hair. More disturbingly, there was the faintest tremor near his right eye, the almost imperceptible beginnings of a facial tic. "There's an emergency at the south-west gate. We can't afford to stay any longer." 

"I can't – mine's dead," Levi said. The words came out oddly – jerkily, as he wasn't quite able to hear himself. "That bastard of a Titan took out her legs – I jumped clear, but she hit the wall." 

"Then we'll double up," Erwin said. The twitch was definitely worsening. "Levi. You've done well. I need you to carry on a little longer, until we get back to Rosenwald." 

"And what if Rosenwald's not there?" Levi's voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat, and touched his fingers to his temple, forcing the tic to still. "We don't know – something stinks about this attack, Erwin." 

"I know," said Erwin quietly. "I won't lie to you. But the journey to Rosenwald takes about half the time it takes to get back to Karanese District from here, and whatever else is going on with the Titan attack, it's certainly forcing us further away from the Walls." 

"Erwin – " began Levi, before trailing off. "Let's get moving." 

"Agreed." Erwin checked his gear for flaws automatically. Nothing worth the time it would take to fix. "And if the western stable's clear of Titans when we get there – you can ride your mare bareback, can't you?" 

"Not a problem," said Levi. He seemed marginally reassured by Erwin's composure, if not his words, and they retrieved one of the loose horses without more incident than one Titan making a grab for Erwin and Levi hacking off its hand at the wrist. 

Reynaud galloped up to them, his horse's hooves clattering over the dark, wet flagstones. "Duchesne's dead! What are we doing, Commander?" 

"Head to the south-west gate," Erwin said crisply. "There's an emergency, they've asked for assistance. Move out!" 

As they headed towards the gate, led by Hange through the twisting side alleys of Chenzen, Erwin squinted over Levi's head at the sky where he'd seen the tendrils of purple smoke. It was gone now, of course, but for some reason he fancied he could still see it, violet and yellow blotches obscuring his vision. He clenched his hands on the horse's reins. _Not now._ He hadn't had this since before the fall of Wall Maria, when Commander Shadis had been at his most intransigent. 

They smelled the disaster before they saw it; the alley was narrow and high-walled and precluded any chance to get a clear view of the gate, but the stink on the air was acrid and coppery. Levi was tense and sitting bolt-upright in front of him, poised for immediate flight, and Erwin risked taking a hand off the reins for a calming squeeze to his shoulder. The sound of water rushing through the gutters was loud in his ears, but he stared straight ahead through the hammering rain. Every so often they would pass an overwhelmed downspout, where the water spurted out all over the place. One could tell without looking from side to side: Levi received the brunt of the spray, and his white uniform was soon bedecked in reddish splatters. 

But the first Erwin knew of the true scale was when Hange's placid Survey Corps mare reared and damn near took off without them in a panic. There was a deep puddle of blood near the alley exit, and the horse, when Hange forced her into submission, stood in it up to the fetlocks. 

"There's at least thirty Titans," Hange reported, craning their neck to see round the corner. Their voice, usually warm and resonant, was hoarse and cracked. "I can't see any further back than that." 

It was unlike Hange to give such a bare-bones summary. "What's the situation?" 

"That's, um. That's pretty much the situation. There's, um, there's not much else here." 

" _Hange._ "

"I can't, Erwin." Hange's voice wobbled dangerously, then recovered. "I don't think there's anything we can do." 

Erwin let out a short, sharp breath, and launched from the saddle up onto the eaves of the closest house. The sight froze him; his vision blurred so badly for a moment that he thought he was going blind. He was unable, standing on the rooftop and looking down like a petty god or a tin-pot statue, to comprehend the sheer destruction before him. There was blood streaked over the roof, too; some soldier had tried to flee the field and been dragged back over the slates. 

Below him lay the remains of everyone who had failed to make it through the south-western gate in time. There had been many; Erwin could not count them. He could not even count the Titans, except that there were more than thirty. Some of them were still gorging themselves on the few living injured; one of them was on its hands and knees, retching up a hairball. It hit the wall of the house Erwin was standing on, shattering the window glass. He looked down, but the bulbous mass of partial corpses gave him no clue as to who any of them had once been. 

Blood was trickling over the cobbles and running through the gutters like rainwater, washing through the drains. He wondered where it would end up: if the pumps in Chenzen would run red for weeks or months; if the fertilised weeds would grow strong enough to fracture the pavestones. He thought: we need a street-cleaning crew. He thought: this isn't Shiganshina. _Stop it._

He dropped down into the alley again. "We need to close the gate." 

"That's fucking suicide," said Reynaud, his mouth trembling uncontrollably. 

"Any minute now, it's going to occur to one of these Titans that there are more humans outside the gate," Erwin said evenly. His vision was spotting again, but it didn't matter. It was his voice that was the important part. "We need to slow them down by any means possible." 

"It won't stop them," Hange said, staring out into the street. "They tore through the wall like it was nothing." 

"If it gives them half an hour of trouble, then it will be worth it," said Erwin simply. "Levi, the western stable has no Titans within two streets. You have five minutes." 

Levi was out of the saddle like a shot. 

"Can we afford the time?" Hange asked, their shoulders tensing even as Levi climbed up over the eaves and was gone. "I don't think – "

"We can't afford for Levi to not have a horse of his own," said Erwin. "We need to take ours with us when we go. That means we can't use gear to get over the walls." 

"We can't just run the gauntlet, either," one of Reynaud's Garrison soldiers protested. "That's completely insane – "

"Being caught outside without a horse is a death sentence," Erwin said, cutting him off. "Be careful when galloping, it's going to be very easy for one of them to slip and break a leg." 

Levi returned after some hissed discussion, riding Netty without a saddle or tack. He heard the plan in silence, and only gave one brief nod in assent. Hange led the charge, spurring their mare even when she shied away from the atrocity in the streets. Erwin, looking upon it for the second time, felt only sick. Perhaps you could surfeit on horror; perhaps the third time Erwin looked at something this repulsive, he would suffer mere mild heartburn. 

He swallowed forcefully against the taste of bile in the back of his throat and dashed after Hange, his horse skittering between corpses packed too closely together. A gigantic hand closed over him; he hacked frantically at its fingers and galloped through the bloody stumps. There was a scream behind him; one of the Garrison soldiers was trapped beneath his collapsed horse. Levi was moving to assist him when the inevitable happened, and Erwin shouted at him to veer off and keep going. 

"Forward! _Forward!_ "

In front of him, Hange squawked as a babyish Titan crawled towards them and they fired off the last of the signal flares at the ground to spark their horse faster. Reynaud intercepted the Titan, launching from horseback to swing round in an arc and strike it down. He was back in the saddle in under a minute, before Erwin could draw breath to yell the order. _Don't waste time._

They were nearly at the gate. He vaulted out of the saddle himself, diving for the wall just above the door to the barbican and barrelling through the unlocked entrance. Someone had been sloppy, but it didn't matter now. He slammed it behind him and barred it shut. The soldier on duty had abandoned their jacket over the chair; he wrapped it round his fist and smashed the tiny window that opened onto the street. 

"Through the gate, quick!" 

He saw them gallop through one by one, so fast their hooves barely touched the ground, so fast they looked like they were flying. Levi came last, slowed down by his grip on the reins of Erwin's own horse, which forced him to lean awkwardly across the gap. Erwin felt his mouth curve in a rueful smile, and took some macabre pleasure in using the gate levers to bring the portcullis down on the wrist of the Titan reaching for Netty's hind legs, severing it messily. 

Now for his own escape, which was laughably unlikely. There were two Titans pawing anxiously at the barred door already; it would take very little for them to break it purely out of curiosity. Aside from the window, there were no other means of escape, and he couldn't even fit his head and shoulders through that. 

He was dead. That was all right; it seemed only fair to the thousands of corpses outside. And better him than Hange or Mike, who had made as good a fist of Chenzen as anyone could; better him than Levi. The only problem was the Titans, and their possible sentience. Had anyone else – would anyone else – he started scrabbling through the office for paper, wrenching open the drawers of the desk. Ink, ink. He found the inkwell, still half-full, abandoned in the middle of a working day, and dunked the pen nib into it. His fingers were stained with black as he began to scribble down his thoughts, trying to ignore the steam that crept in through the broken window, dampening the paper. It was blotting too badly to be read – no, _no_ – 

" _Erwin!_ "

He spun round, utterly shocked to hear Levi's voice coming through the window. A moment later, Levi's face appeared upside-down; he must be anchored into the wall above. 

"Move, you fucking bastard! You're clear!" 

Erwin ran to the door, pushing the bar up and yanking it open. There were about five metres between him and the nearest Titan, which bought him a precious few seconds to rappel up the wall high enough that he could not be reached. Levi joined him at the top and they were dropping back down the other side as the Titan let out a wail of anguish. 

"Thank you," Erwin said, heartfelt. 

Levi tried to sneer at him, but his mouth wavered. "Don't be stupid." 

"Who's left?" 

"Me, Hange, Reynaud – that's all." 

All Survey Corps, at least, and used to working as a team. Erwin nodded, nudging his horse to a trot. "Let's catch up with the train." 

The stragglers were less than ten minutes ahead, picking their way carefully over the uneven ground. The earlier refugees had clearly done their best to mark the traps and mines within the perimeter with hastily-sown sand, but it had all gone to waste. A mass panic had ensued when the wall came down, and the mad, headlong rush had triggered the explosives hidden in the dirt. Several of the tiger pits had caught humans instead of Titans; one of them was still, barely, alive. Levi dropped down into the crater and after a moment the sobbing stopped. 

"Gut wound, bleeding out," he reported, emerging. Both Reynaud and Hange were pale, but Erwin merely held Netty for him as he clambered onto her back. 

"Come on," he said. "We've got to move quickly if we're going to catch up to Mike." 

It was a little longer before they reached the main body of the train, and there Erwin left Levi and the others to ride ahead. The crowd was large enough that it was nearly twenty minutes before he found his captain, who was leading the column. 

"We need to split up," he said without preamble. "Going in a massive crowd only makes us sitting ducks." 

"That's a hell of a logistical problem," Mike said, casting a daunted eye over the thousands of people behind him. "We'd have to go in large enough groups that it might not be worth the trouble." 

"How many soldiers do you have left?" 

"Depends, how many soldiers did you bring from the east wall?" 

"Four, including me," Erwin said, and he forced himself to endure the way Mike's face darkened. 

After a lengthy silence, he said, "Just over a thousand, then." 

"We'll divide them into groups of three hundred, in that case, which means – " Erwin briefly shut his eyes – "About nine soldiers to a group. That's about the size of a full expeditionary force." 

"There's no fucking way," Mike said, but he began to call his remaining officers to him. "Any other instructions, while we're at it?" 

"Yes. Don't go through Margerite Valley, whatever you do. Take your group through the hills." 

"That's gonna tear it," said Mike, shading his eyes with his hand. He looked exhausted; Erwin could hardly blame him. "Why? It's far and away the quickest route to Rosenwald." 

"Precisely," Erwin said. 

He rode back towards Levi and the others, his stomach churning with grim apprehension. If he was wrong about this – 

He ordered Levi to collect up the stragglers who would be their responsibility; Hange and Reynaud went on ahead to find their own group. Better to scatter them among sets, to ensure some Corps expertise – and backbone – everywhere. When he was satisfied with their size, he had them separate from the main body, leading them due south. 

"This isn't the way to Rosenwald," said one. 

"It will be," Erwin said. 

Chenzen itself had been nestled in the hollow of a valley and turning south meant heading up onto the ridge. It had been a pleasant hike in the days before the fall of Shiganshina: Erwin and Mike had walked the whole ridge once, taking them almost to the doorstep of their southern HQ. But now it was nearly five o'clock: Erwin could not decide whether the long light evening was a blessing or a curse. 

The initial climb was steep and miserable, and he, who never prayed, only hoped with grim pessimism that it wouldn't be interrupted by a Titan. He could hear a woman crying from fatigue, and Levi saying roughly: "Save your breath for walking." 

He risked a glance down into the valley below, which was steadily receding with every step. The crowd of civilians was dispersing: some following the path up onto the ridge, others streaming north into the rocky hills. Some, Erwin realised, the bottom dropping out of his stomach, were heading right into the valley itself, in defiance of his orders. For a crazy moment, he wondered if Mike had ordered them in deliberately as bait, but as soon as the thought occurred he dismissed it. That wasn't like Mike at all. He might have done it himself, if he'd thought of it sooner, but – no, it was unlikely to help. 

"We're doing well, keep going," he said, his voice low but carrying. At least the rain was slackening off. He shivered slightly in his scavenged jacket. 

"Look!" cried a girl, distracted by the sight below. "Titans!" 

"Keep going," Erwin repeated, louder this time. "There's nothing we can do." 

"But – "

"Come on, sweetheart," said her mother. "Keep going. They're too far away." 

They tramped further up the ridge, and Erwin pulled out his spyglass again. Even to the naked eye, the white flowers carpeting the valley below were now blossoming red. He looked for the faces remaining, but at this distance he could not recognise them. He could not even be sure they were human. 

"How many?" Levi asked in an undertone. 

"Six or seven groups." 

"Fuck." 

They went on in silence for a long time, the light eventually beginning to fade. Twilight fell around half past nine, by which point his group were utterly spent. Still Erwin pushed them on, refusing rest. One girl could not walk for blisters; he took her up on his horse. It was not an enviable position, even for the most exhausted, since Erwin rode in the vanguard of the pack. 

"What will we do when the light goes?" asked one woman in what she thought was a whisper. 

"Hope there's a full moon," Erwin said. "But we'll come down off the ridge first." 

They were already heading downhill, which seemed only to intensify the group's wretchedness: the terrain was too dangerously uneven to run, and the tiny steps they were forced to take for safety unbearable to their shredded feet. None of them had eaten since lunch. They seemed numbed to all else, their bodies too exhausted for any more emotion. 

The last of the light disappeared when the path was in sight. It was a half moon, not a full one, but Erwin was so glad the rain clouds had dispersed that he could not complain. A little to the west was the last of the forest near to Rosenwald, consisting mainly of the trees too far out to be easily harvested for fuel. They could see the tail-end of another group passing through them, obscured by the leaves. 

"I think that's Heike!" said the girl sharing Erwin's horse in a glad whisper. "I'm going to – Hei – !" 

Erwin slammed his hand over her mouth so hard it left a red mark and she let out a stifled squeak of terror. "Quiet," he hissed in her ear. Across from him, Levi was signalling absolute silence to the rest of the group; Levi had ears like a bat, too. 

Faintly, horribly, they could hear the sounds of screams, a haunting susurrus through the branches. The girl twisted in the saddle, his hand still over her mouth, her eyes wide and pleading; but he shook his head. 

"Keep going," he said in a voice like death. 

They kept walking, inching forward as quietly as possible. He couldn't even hear them breathe any more. Levi was crouched on Netty's back, maintaining perfect balance seemingly without effort, waiting for any of the Titans to emerge from the treeline. Erwin's hand tightened over the girl's jaw. He could feel how tense and scared she was, shaking uncontrollably in front of him. How many were there? A force that could wipe out one group could wipe out another. 

There was a long pause, and then a single Titan lumbered out of the trees. It wasn't even an Abnormal, only a rather confused-looking three-metre. There was blood dribbling from its mouth and it wiped it away with a bewildered manner, as if uncertain of how it got there. There was a sudden wetness against his fingers, and he glanced down. The girl was weeping silently, her tears dripping down her nose and onto his hand. 

"Keep going," he said in her ear, and felt her nod. 

Eventually, to everyone's relief, the three-metre Titan bumbled away to the north, apparently not even noticing them. As if given new energy by the adrenaline of coming so close to death, his group marched on. They made the perimeter of Rosenwald just before midnight, and as soon as they reached the city they were delivered into the care of Antonia Ritter, the mayor's daughter. 

"We've made up sleeping pallets in every room in town," she said to Erwin, without a trace of her former rancour. "Maria willing, everyone will see a bed tonight." 

"How many have arrived?" Erwin asked. His vision blurred again, and something must have shown in his face, because she took an involuntary step forward. 

"Less than started," she said. "But you're not the last, there's that." 

He forced himself to his feet, pushing his hair back from his face. "Thank you." 

There was some kind of ruckus going on in the courtyard of Survey HQ, where Erwin stopped off to stable his horse. She'd been a loyal mount, among the best he'd had. He didn't have the sentimental attachment to his horses that Levi did, but he could appreciate – 

"You were supposed to protect us, you fucking shithead!" 

With a sudden, sick feeling, Erwin turned to defend the luckless Survey soldier. The gathering crowd parted for him, and he found himself at Mike's shoulder, shoring him up. 

"Keep it to yourself," he said, his voice harsh and cold. "We've all had a difficult day." 

"He was supposed to be leading us," said the man – _Voigt_ , Erwin thought, _you should know your own soldiers by now_. There were tears standing in his eyes. "Instead we died like dogs, and for what?" 

"And what would you have done when the Titans came through the wall?" Erwin asked. Voigt said nothing, but his face crumpled and his eyes overflowed. Erwin stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "Go to bed, soldier. You've earned a night's rest. This is not the time for recriminations." 

Behind him, he heard the scraping of Mike's boot on the stone floor. After he'd calmed Voigt down, Erwin went after him, following him up to his own room. They were supposed to be sharing tonight, and probably for many nights to come. 

Mike was sitting on the bed when he entered, staring at the ground between his feet. He looked ridiculous, such a large man folded up like a jack-in-the-box, but Erwin did not laugh. His face, when he raised his head, was shocking in its emptiness. 

"What time is it?" 

"Nearly one." 

"How many people have arrived?" 

"About ten thousand, so far." 

"So far," Mike repeated, and gave a little chuckle that sent a cold shudder down Erwin's spine. "So far." 

Erwin knelt beside him, but decided against touching his arm. "Mike – "

"Don't." 

"Don't what?" 

"Don't start with your smug crap, not now – " Mike broke off, his chest heaving with unvoiced sobs. 

Erwin fought the urge to recoil. _He's too upset to know what he's saying._ Of course, it occurred to him, that was fairly smug in and of itself. "What happened in Chenzen was _not_ your fault. We weren't set up to resist that kind of concerted attack. How could we have predicted it?" 

"I know what you're saying," said Mike, in a tone that was so tightly-controlled that Erwin leaned carefully back out of reach, in case he took a swing. "It's just not fucking helping right now, Erwin, so shut the hell up." 

Erwin was silent, but Mike seemed to have opened his own floodgates. His words came thick and fast in a low, vicious timbre. "Half my group are dead. We were out there for hours longer than we needed to be, thanks to your bullshit order." 

"Did you go north?" Erwin asked abruptly. 

"What difference does that make?" 

"If you went north, you wouldn't be able to see down into the valley," said Erwin, trying to sound as cool and unemotional as possible. "There was an ambush waiting for us there." 

"The fuck there was," said Mike, flat. 

"Excuse me?" 

"You don't have to cover your ass with me, Erwin. I'll still follow you, however crap your orders are." Mike's mouth twisted like a clown's. "I swore an oath, didn't I?" 

"Anyone who saw the valley afterwards can attest to it," Erwin said, his iron grip on his self-control tightening. "Ask Levi, if you like." 

"Levi would tell me the sky was green if you ordered him to," Mike said bitterly. "But you told us _before_ it happened, how could you possibly know?" 

Erwin hesitated, playing with the corner of the blanket. "I suppose because it's what I would have done, if I were fighting humans. Send a heavy force at the east wall and force them to evacuate through the obvious route in the valley, where I'd set up an ambush." 

Mike raised his head to stare at him. Not for the first time that day, Erwin wondered if he himself might be the irrational one. "We weren't fighting humans, Erwin." 

"Weren't we?" Erwin asked, and shook his head to rid himself of the whimsy. "We were fighting at least a semi-organised force. I don't know how or why – yet – but I promise you I'll find out." 

A very old memory surfaced, his father's hand in his hair, and for a moment he could not breathe. _Did you know?_ What _did you know?_ It was his own fault that he couldn't ask. 

"Forty-five thousand people," said Mike softly, looking down at his big, weathered hands again. "Gone, just like that. I had them – _here_ – and I dropped them. Fuck, Erwin, I'm sorry." 

"It wasn't your fault," Erwin said again, but Mike didn't seem to hear him this time. His breath was coming harshly through his nose, and suddenly he seemed to collapse in on himself like a pricked balloon. Erwin caught him before he hit his knees and pulled him back onto the bed, trying uneasily to soothe him as he might a wounded child. 

"It's all right," he said gently, lying through his teeth. "It's going to be all right." 

The dawn was streaking through the grey sky by the time he thought it safe to leave Mike sleeping. He was splayed out on Erwin's bed, a deep frown creasing his forehead and occasionally muttering to himself. Erwin was not easy in his mind as he closed the bedroom door with a soft click, but nor was anyone this morning. He thought that the worst was probably over, with Mike. 

He pocketed his razor on the way out, to be sure. 

In lieu of anywhere else to go, he went down to his office. He could hear soldiers moving about outside in the stable; most of them had likely not been to bed. There would be no reveille this morning. 

_No._ There needed to be, if Erwin had to sound the bugle himself. They needed a guard awake, in any case, and the troops needed to hear that everything was as normal. He paused, his hand on the office doorknob, and then swung round to roust the bugler from his hidey-hole. Better a late call than none at all. 

He crossed over to the stable afterwards, and fed his horse from yesterday with the crumbs from the bottom of the oat sack. There was nothing else to give her. That done, he returned to his office, and stopped again before he opened the door. Surely there was something else that could be done? Visit the hospital? 

_Stop it._

He twisted the knob and walked in, halting in surprise when he saw Levi slouching in his desk chair. 

"Fucking finally," Levi said. "Come on, eat your breakfast." 

On the desk in front of him lay a cup of black tea, still hot, next to a crust of bread which Levi had apparently gone to the trouble to spread thickly with Victory margarine. The meagre offering was in fact more than Erwin usually had for breakfast nowadays, but he sat down meekly in the other chair. 

"Have you eaten yourself?" he asked. For some reason, his body could not seem to understand that he was sitting; every muscle was still tense and aching. His ribs were the worst of all, his breath was sawing in and out of his lungs. 

"Yeah," said Levi. He was lying, but Erwin was much too tired to argue with him. 

"Good, I'm glad," he said, with utmost sincerity, and caught a trace of guilt in Levi's face. 

He reached for the cup, but as he picked it up his hand suddenly began to shake so badly the tea slopped over the sides and he had to set it down as he brought his fingers to his mouth. He tried to smile at Levi, who had half-risen in concern, but his lips wouldn't work right. 

"I'm sorry," he said, in an approximation of his easy tone. "Let's try that again." 

He stretched out his hand for the bread this time, but the movement sent a sharp, lancing pain down his right arm and he dropped it on the desk. The crust bounced – it was stale – and landed butter-side-down. 

"Shit," said Levi. 

"Not to worry," said Erwin, retrieving it and biting into it. Victory margarine wasn't margarine so much as lard mixed with water, but very likely it was healthier anyway, especially with the trivial patina of dust that was causing Levi's moue of disgust. "I'm fine." 

"The hell you are," Levi said, coming round the edge of the desk. 

"It's nothing." Erwin swallowed his last mouthful of bread. "I just need to sleep, I think." 

"Mike hog the blankets all night?" 

"Something like that." 

"Right." Levi hoisted himself slightly onto the desk. "Look, are you okay to talk business? We don't have to." 

"Of course we do." Erwin made himself straighten, ignoring the grinding sensation in his chest. "What kind of casualties did we take?" 

"Just under eighteen thousand people made it to Rosenwald," said Levi bluntly. "There might still be survivors, but now the sun's up I'm not holding out much hope." 

"No, I agree. Let's not waste resources." Erwin swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. "Those are better numbers than we might otherwise have hoped for. Nearly forty percent! It'll be a strain on Rosenwald's food supply, but that's at least a _different_ problem – "

He broke off suddenly, assailed by the impossible pressure behind his ribcage. It bloomed up in his chest, so full and overwhelming that he could not speak. 

"You need to go and sleep," Levi said urgently. He was scowling ferociously with concern. "Kick Mike out of bed if you have to – or take mine – "

"I'm fine, Levi." To prove it, Erwin stretched out a completely tranquil hand, and lifted his cup of tea to his lips. His throat hurt too much to drink, but miming seemed to work as well. "Now, go on. We have a lot of work to do today." 


End file.
